Order Of The Dragon
by Svelte Rose
Summary: On a mission for the Order, Hermione and Tonks head to Romania where they are ambushed by Death Eaters. Taking the fight into the Snagov Monastery, both activate a portkey. Tonks ends up in 12 Grimmauld Place. But...where's Hermione? Hermione fic.
1. Prologue

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Prologue

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Couples: **???

**Disclaimer**: I stole the characters from JK Rowling- only for a short while. Mwehe. Doesn't completely follow the books so I'm going to need help from you guys in spotting any technical errors.

* * *

_**Snagov, Romania -- 5:13pm**_

Brushing a lock of curly hair out of her sweaty face, Hermione leaned back from the railing from which she had been emptying her lunch and took a quick swig from her water bottle. Swishing it around in her mouth a couple of times, she spat it back out into the grassy plains where it met the same demise as her masticated luncheon from hours before.

"You alright?" Tonks asked in a concerned voice as she rubbed the younger girl's back gingerly.

"Just a bit of motion sickness, otherwise I'm fine," She replied before smashing a rather ugly hat on her messy bun.

"Too bad we couldn't apparate here," Tonks sighed as she watched the bus drive away and then glancing at the expanse of land surrounding them. "Where are we?"

Hermione pulled out a ratty map from her back pocket and glanced at it, "We're a couple kilometers away from the lake, it'll take us about twenty minutes to walk there."

The purple haired woman gave her partner a sigh and patted the sleeve that held her wand. "Well, we've got an hour or so before sundown, we should get a move on it."

Hermione grunted in agreement as the two of them set off down the dusty road. "For such a popular tourist area, I'm surprised they don't have a proper transportation system in place,"

A look of confusion was thrown her way, "I say Hermione, one usually wouldn't call those moving clunks of metal _proper_ transportation."

"They do their job, funnily enough," The brunette chuckled.

Tonks snorted, "They do, indeed."

Despite the carefree banter the two of them were exchanging, neither could ignore the importance of the situation that they were in. Having stepped out of a fireplace in a shady locale somewhere deep in the heart of Bucharest a few hours ago, Hermione realized she had barely been able to come on this mission due to various pleas made by Harry, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley. Others had voiced their concerns, claiming that they needed more than two people to tend to this mission. However, those were the ones who shut up immediately when Tonks voiced her opinion.

"_Many of you forget that we are in a time of war. While it is my earnest wish that Hermione not accompany this trip- not because you are not capable, but simply because you are too young-," The auror began shooting a quick glance at the irritated brunette, "She is the best one here capable of taking us through the muggle village."_

"_She is too young, I'll not allow it!" Mrs. Weasley fretted, wringing her hands as she stood up._

_Tonks shot the matron a stern look, "Believe me, I know what you feel, but also understand that these three-," she waved a hand over the Golden Trio, "are at the crux of the war. We've already let Harry and Ron go out on a couple of missions; I refuse to believe the Order will not permit Hermione to do the same."_

_Harry chose this point to speak up, "Then let me accompany the both of you,"_

"_No!" Came the various shouts._

_Tonks winked at the boy, "Come now Harry, you know that's not possible,"_

"_Why not?" Came the frustrated question._

"_The more people we have, the easier it is for the Death Eaters to find us," Hermione quietly said, her eyes on Harry._

_Harry turned his head to her, "But Hermione-,"_

"_I'll be alright. I promise." She grinned._

_Albus Dumbledore rose from his chair slowly and nodded, "Then it is settled."_

Not contrary to popular belief, Hermione's greatest wish was to go back to school. Atleast in school, there was nothing to worry about besides finishing the latest potions homework or worrying whether or not she had enough ink to last her until the next Hogsmeade visit. However, since the Death Eater attack a couple months ago, the three of them had been scurried off by the Order to Grimmauld Place while the remaining students at Hogwarts (those who had not been withdrawn from the school by parents) were closely guarded by Aurors.

Wiping the perspiration from her forehead, she knew that while unlikely, perhaps this place would contain something of a clue as to where one of the horcrux lay or even the horcrux itself.

But she was no fool- like the other places they had checked out over these last few months, it was probably just another dead end. However, the large concentration of magic the Ministry had reported being there was not to go unchecked and in the end, any clue was better than no clue at all.

About twenty minutes later, the two weary ladies rested at the trunk of a tree, hidden from any prying eyes as they munched away at a bag of goodies Hermione had pulled out of her pocket. Tonks transfigured a leaf into a rather comfy blanket to sit down on while both kept their senses keen and alert for anything out of the ordinary.

"Looks like we'll have to apparate," Tonks explained as she brushed the crumbs off her pants and turned to stare off into the distance at a stone building placed in the middle of the lake on an island.

"Snagov Monastery is it?" Hermione asked more to herself than of Tonks.

* * *

_**Snagov Monastery, Romania – 12:22am**_

Despite the invisibility cloak, Hermione and Tonks couldn't help but wince at the loud 'cracks' of their apparition. Pulling out their wands slowly, Tonks quickly surveyed the dark surroundings with only the help of the moonlight.

"It's rather silent, don't you think?" Hermione whispered to the tense Auror.

Tonks nodded, "I'm going to step out of the cloak, you stay under and follow closely behind."

Her nerves unsettled, Hermione followed closely behind as they neared the forbidding stone building, her hands gripping her wand tightly.

"Stop," Tonks hissed and Hermione obeyed immediately. They stood there for what seemed like a couple of minutes in tense silence.

Honing her ears, Hermione heard the audible crunch of a branch and was just about to turn around before she was knocked to the ground by Tonks as they dodged a spell shooting over their heads.

"Come on!" Came Tonks urgent cry as they both dashed for the dark doors of the monastery.

The cloak clutched tightly around her body, Hermione shouted various spells from under the cloak trying to shield the two of them from the various curses being thrown at them. The advantage of being invisible confused many of the Death Eaters as to why there was another voice besides Tonks', but only shortly before the clear voice of Avery shouted out, "_Accio cloak!_"

Fully revealed, Hermione dashed through the doors behind Tonks before slamming it closed.

"Come on, that won't hold!" She ordered as they headed deeper into the dark monastery.

Hermione scrambled ahead only to catch her foot on something and go sprawling, her wand went flying from her hand as her head hit the corner of a bench. Stifling a groan, she held her bleeding head, quickly feeling for her wand on the floor. "Oh god!" She cried when her hands pulled out of a warm sticky substance. Having a sure idea of what it was, she gulped down her screams while searching even more frantically for the wand.

"Hermione!" Tonks called out in the dark before the door burst open, splinters of wood flying everywhere. The Auror fell down and quickly muttered a '_portus_' spell on her shoe. Having placed a '15 second' waiting spell on it, she used the new source of light to search for the young witch. Having spotted the bobbing head of curly hair, she moved quickly towards the girl. Leaping over the prone body of who she suspected to be the caretaker of this place, Tonks swore under her breath as her socked foot slipped on the blood. Five seconds had already passed.

_10…_

_9…_

Moonlight escaped into the dank building, lighting up the mutilated body Hermione had been feeling around. Horrified, the brunette clenched her jaw, her eyes flying over the stone floors before coming across her wand.

8…

7…

Dashing even deeper into the monastery towards a large stone tomb, she closed her fingers around her wand relishing in the feeling of security and barely avoided a curse as it hit the tomb behind her instead, chunks of stone flying everywhere.

6…

5…

"Hermione!" The frustrated Auror called as she chased after her, gripping her shoe. From the corner of her eye, she saw the Lestrange woman throw a bright red curse at her and she quickly ducked behind the benches. The spell having nicked her in the leg, the auror winced as a burning pain shot through her body.

4…

3…

Hermione moved behind the tomb quickly and while she knew it was foolish, she muttered a quick and sincere apology to whomever lay in the tomb while she wiped the blood from her forehead. Wincing, she peered over the tomb, laying her hand upon the intricate inscription of the tomb. With barely a second to blink, she felt a familiar tug at her navel.

2…

1…

"No!" Tonks screamed as she saw the young witch disappear before her very eyes. But soon, relief pumped through her as realization settled in and her own portkey was activated. _Of course Hermione would know how to create a portkey…_

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, England – 1:10 am **_

Tonks landed in front of a very surprised Remus before she glanced around frantically for the young witch. "Hermione?" She yelled. "Where's Hermione?"

Sirius came from behind and asked quietly, "Wasn't she with you?"

"We were attacked," She quipped before throwing the parlour doors open and limping down the hallways. "Hermione?"

Remus and Sirius shared a worried look before they went off after her.

"You're hurt, what happened?" Remus questioned as they followed her into an empty dining room surveying her injured leg.

"Death Eaters attacked, we ran into the monastery to hide, Hermione and I escaped by means of portkey," She quickly listed off before limping into the kitchen where Snape sat sipping his tea.

He was annoyed at the intrusion but upon seeing the three members' frantic faces, he glanced at Tonks and narrowed his eyes, "Where's the girl?"

Tonks all but snarled, "She's suppose to be here, where is she? She should've gotten back here! She disappeared before my very eyes so it _must've_ been a portkey! Hermione!"

"What's going on?" Dumbledore asked as he stepped through the small entryway into the kitchen.

Tonks went past the wizard and dashed up the stairs regardless of her injured leg, screaming at the top of her lungs. "Hermione!" Throwing open the first door, she saw the sleeping bodies of both Molly and Arthur Weasley. Opening door after door and seeing no sign of a bushy head anywhere, she couldn't help the burdening feeling of dread bubbling in her stomach.

"_BESMIRCHER OF FILTH!"_ The portrait of Mrs. Black started screaming as the ruckus Tonks made roused her from her sleep.

Dumbledore, having hurried up the stairs after Tonks quieted the noisy portrait but not before a groggy boy with a messy head of black hair came wandering out of his room.

Sticking his glasses on, Harry yawned before asking, "What's with all the noise, Professor Dumbledore?"

Tonks chose this moment to come limping out of a room, "She's not here! I've searched everywhere for her, she's not…she's not…" She stopped talking as soon as she saw the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Who?" He asked confused, looking between her and Dumbledore. "Who are you talk- wait, _where's Hermione_?"

* * *

_**Unknown – 1:10 am**_

Hermione fell with a loud thud on the stone floor, coughing as dust filled her nostrils and lungs. Her head was pounding severely and she had to shut one eye because blood kept getting into it. The wound on her head refused to stop bleeding and it hurt too much to press a hand to it. Glad she had not lost her wand in the process, she tried to look at her surroundings to the best of her abilities but her attempts were for naught as she realized she couldn't even see her own two hands.

The problem with the_ lumos_ spell was that it gave your enemies an advantage in seeking out your hiding area. Especially since she didn't know where she was and who might be with her, Hermione quieted her breathing as she tried listening for any indication of a living being other than herself. She ignored the coldness settling into her very bones but couldn't help shuddering. Confused as to why her body seemed to be shaking in fear, she gathered whatever courage she could and whispered a soft, "_lumos!_"

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Notes**: Please don't be fooled by the title, it is in no way, an indication of who Hermione will end up with. The title has a historical reference to it and it's going to be the premise with which this fic will be played out upon. Hopefully, I'll have the next chapter out soon. Please review! 


	2. Chapter 1

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 1

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Couples: **???

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London – 1:30 am**_

Silence greeted his question and he looked back to Dumbledore.

"Harry," Sirius began.

"We haven't had time to question Tonks about the situation of the matter just yet." Remus supplied.

"Then start questioning," He urged while wringing his hands very much like Molly had done just a day earlier.

"Let us move down to the parlour room, it's far more comfortable there," Dumbledore suggested as he turned around and started making his way down the narrow stairs.

"Ron will want to hear about this-," Harry turned to open the door but found his hand had been snatched by Snape.

Glaring at the dark-haired boy, Snape pushed him toward the stairs, "It will not do anybody any favors if you tell that brainless idiot. We don't need to deal with two whimpering sods."

Remus sighed and took the glaring teenager by his back, "Come Harry, let them sleep. We'll tell them once they wake up tomorrow morning."

Harry nodded and followed the Order members down the stairs, the feeling of worry in his stomach never leaving.

* * *

_**Unknown – 1:50 am**_

Hermione shuddered and rubbed the goosebumps on her arms as she looked down the narrow passageways to the best of her abilities. While she had seen nor heard anything besides her own rustling and footsteps, it didn't help quell the fear. She had to remind herself several times that she was a Gryffindor – _for Merlin's sake!_ – and it would not do to have a Gryffindor scared just because she was alone.

Quickly making her way, she only stopped to investigate when the carvings of various – was it snakes? – serpent-like creatures increased.

When she first arrived, it had been in a small dark room with only one passage. Not feeling very good about her chances, she had tried appariting but realized hat was out of the question. She definitely did not want to splinch herself and end up in another part of Death Eater territory missing various limbs.

Thankfully, the wound on her head had stopped bleeding earlier when she began her hunt for the exit but she didn't enjoy the pain that was still associated with it and the spell of dizziness she kept on getting. Leaning up against the wall, she stopped for a moment to re-gather her thoughts. Hermione rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. She had already looked for Tonks to no avail and hoped that at least the Auror had been able to make it back safely.

"_Hermione!" Tonks called out in the dark before the door burst open, splinters of wood flying everywhere. The Auror fell down and quickly muttered a 'portus' spell on her shoe._

"That's right, she created a portkey," The bushy-haired witch grinned. Therefore…

"Stupid, why didn't I think of that earlier." She chided herself as she went to take off her shoe. Just as she bent down to grab the shoe, Hermione immediately stopped as her blood ran cold and a slight rustling could be heard.

"_Nox!_" She quickly whispered to her wand before she was plunged into darkness once more. Breathing lightly and bending low, she cast a gripping charm on her wand. The rustling was more audible now and just as she started moving away from the noise, light flared up all around her.

The only thing Hermione could hear now was her reverberating scream as she stared into a pair of blood-red eyes.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London – 2:00am**_

"She disappeared before my very eyes. I assumed it must've been a portkey. Avery took the cloak from us when we were running from them." Tonks finished wearily as she accepted a cup of tea Remus offered to her.

"There's no other explanation for it," Sirius added rubbing his chin while he glanced at his tense god-son.

"I'm so sorry Harry, if I'd only been more-," Tonks began, her gaze imploring the young wizard to understand.

"It's not your fault," Harry quietly responded. "It's my fault for letting her go, for letting her get into this mess, I should've argued more, I should've made her stay, I should've-,"

"Should've, would've but we didn't. Now is not the time to act on a fashion of regrets." Snape rolled his eyes as he stood up.

Harry and Sirius both shot glares to the potions master.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked quietly as he watched Snape make his way to the doors.

"I'm going to wake Molly Weasley up. Since the locator spell doesn't work…" He began.

"Then the clock may give us a clue as to where Hermione might be." Dumbledore finished quietly.

* * *

_**Unknown – 2:40 am**_

She had no idea where she was. Instead of running away from the noise, she had ran even deeper into the tunnel and to her amazement, with every step, flames held up by some invisible force lit up. Her breathing was erratic; when she entered a large room, it grew even more erratic when she realized there was no other exit other than the one she came through.

Rows and rows of flames lip up, illuminating the serpent-like gargoyles whose jeweled eyes bore in her. All of the sudden, she was thrown violently into the wall where she stifled a cry. Groaning and without even looking, she screamed, "Reducto!" And noticed her spell took a rather large chunk from the wall. Scrambling up fearfully, she jerked around looking for any sign of her attacker before she was thrown roughly against the wall once more.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London – 3:00am**_

The lot of them were mystified as they watched a single hand out of the many, on the clock, spin in a rapid circle. Whereas many of the Weasley offspring had their location pointed to 'sleeping', the hand that Mrs. Weasley had designated for Hermione was spinning clockwise, never once stopping.

"It isn't broken," Molly firmly stated. "There must be some powerful magic at work to confuse the clock."

Dumbledore watched silently with cold eyes as the clock hand inscribed, 'Hermione', spun like the devil was chasing it.

* * *

_**Unknown – 3:10 am**_

A bone jarring pain pulsated through her body as an audible crack could be heard. Hermione gagged from the pain and she surmised that at least one rib had to have broken under the duress her body was being placed under. Forcing her pounding head up, it didn't help that she had double vision or that the walls were moving.

Wait…_what_?

The serpent-creatures which were carved upon the wall were no longer inanimate, in fact, one glared at her with it's jeweled eyes and hissed while detaching itself from the wall.

The brave Gryffindor wasted no time and with a loud "_reducto!_" blasted at the nefarious creature. The serpent-creature hit the wall and landed on the stone ground with a thud. It shimmered a bit before disappearing completely. That was not what captivated Hermione's attention however, it was the other carvings that were quickly detaching themselves from the wall and with eyes glowing, made their way toward the witch.

One in particular lunged at Hermione and sank their fangs into her leg before she had a chance to get away.

Screaming in pain, Hermione grabbed the creature by the neck and pulled it off, tears falling freely down her cheek as the snake took some of her skin with it. Flinging it as far as she could, she screamed out, "_Stupefy!_" and quickly leapt out of the way from the next flying serpent-creature.

"Stay back!" She hollered in determination, fear evident in her eyes.

The serpents (there was about six coming at her, not counting the one she had blasted earlier) stopped and like their first fallen foe, shimmered before disappearing.

Hermione watched as paths were still being carved into the dust on the ground.

_Bloody hell! They were invisible!_

"_Aguamenti!_" She screamed. As she intended, the rivults of water shooting from the tip of her wand faintly outlined the slithering forms. "No wonder Snagov Monastery showed so many explosions of dark magic, they must be Voldemort's creatures." She whispered. The serpents were too large to be any sort of ordinary snakes and they possessed arms and legs which ruled out the possibility of another basilik. Noting the pain in her abdomen and her left leg, she backed up when the realization sinked in.

"You're dragons!" She screamed, horrified. While they weren't as large as the dragons Charlie tended to in Romania, they were certainly in possession of the physical attributes.

"And that is where you are wrong, child," One of them spoke gravely. She noticed that the faint outlines were slowing morphing into more human-like figures.

She hissed at them, "Is Voldemort running so low on support he had to call unregulated creatures to his cause?" It was rhetorical of course but the response couldn't have surprised her more.

"You wretched child, we don't _work_ for that filthy monster!" One of them snarled, his green eyes glittering dangerously.

"We have another master," Another calmly answered. But the cold power emanating from his body was more than proof to the clever witch that he was probably one of the more powerful ones.

"She was delicious," One of them hissed, being only half-way in his transformation. Hermione deducted this was probably the one that had bit her in the leg.

One-by-one, they appeared before her, dressed in leather cloaks, stark white skin, blood red lips and glowing eyes.

"Reducto!" She spelled immediately, blasting away three of them. Biting her tongue hard, she willed the pain away and dashed towards the entrance she had come from.

Adrenaline was what kept her from realizing the amount of pain her body was with-standing and basic instincts kicked in giving her the focus she needed to perform what simple spells she could. Hermione knew she probably wasn't going to get out of here alive but damned if she wasn't going to_ try_.

She had only made it half-way before she flew up in the air and was thrown backwards against the wall, much higher than the last couple of times she'd been flung.

Her skull smacked against the wall and both her arms flung out as a trickle of blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. The gripping charm had come undone as in her right hand relaxed. Her left arm had hit something else though and in an act of self-preservation, she tried gripping whatever she could before plummeting painfully to the ground. Her hand DID get a hold of something but to her ire, it fell with her.

"No!" Several howls echoed on the empty walls.

It all happened in a fraction of a second with her legs hitting the ground first. She barely had time to register the snapping of a leg bone before her face and torso smacked the stone floor. Whatever she'd been holding hadn't been very sturdy because it shattered under her weight, sharp pieces piercing her body. A strange sticky fluid splattered from the impact of her body as blood mixed with whatever was in the jar pooled around her still form.

Blood mixed with saliva poured from her mouth as her brown-eyes stared wide-eyed at her wand which only lay a couple of feet away. Her dislocated shoulder and broken leg were the least of her worries. Not even pain of her stomach acids burning away at her organs could faze her.

No, what made her convulse terribly in pain was a surge of magical power, _old _magic that pulsated through her body while her own blood mixed with the sticky substance. She had a distinct want to vomit but her body was too wound up, too tight for it. Blood poured from the various wounds of her body and despite the desperate wish to reach her wand, Hermione knew she was fighting a lost battle. Even if she did get a hold of it, she was in no state to perform any spells, not even a simple lumos.

Her hand weakly reached out, brown eyes beseeching the wand to come to her. But she could not reach it and it did not come to her no matter how many moans poured forth from her mouth.

Hermione's nostrils were caked with dust and grime mixed with blood. Eardrums pounding and eyes bulging out, she choke viciously as her heart pounded furiously against her ribcage.

_Then darkness._

* * *

_**Malfoy Manor, London – 3:33am**_

A pair of grey eyes snapped open as his mouth opened in a silent scream. Beads of sweat broke out on his face, fingers jerking and muscles twitching, he gurgled as another jolt of pain shot through his body. In a few seconds, he was on his stomach waiting for the acrid taste of bile to past.

"Oh god," Came the soft spoken whisper before his faithful wife muttered a quick cleaning spell. "Lucius, your teeth!"

The man in question lifted his fingers tenatively to his mouth and delicately rubbed at the new, sharp canines, wincing when they drew blood.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London – 3:33am**_

"It's slowing down," Harry grinned happily as he leaned closer. But his happy countenance quickly turned into one of abject horror.

"What is it?" Mrs. Weasley cried as she pushed her way forward. Screaming in her palm, she alerted the other Order members who quickly moved to surround the clock.

"Merlin," Remus whispered.

On the grandfather clock, one lone hand pointed-

_Mortal Peril._

* * *

**Note**: The stance Rowling had for the romantic aspects of her character's lives (until the sixth book anyway) is the stance I will be taking- not saying for certain who is to be with whom. This is a story that's centered around Hermione therefore there will be no certain pairing...yet. While this chapter came out fast enough and rather long considering my penchant for writing short chapters, I'm not sure if I'm satisfied with the turnout mainly because I can't wait to start revealing more important parts of this infernal plot. However, it served its purpose. This one author is rarely satisfied with her work and the silly child that she is, rather enjoys it when her readers take the time to comment! Also, a sugar cookie to anybody who can figure out what has happened to our lovely heroine. 


	3. Chapter 2

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 2

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

_**Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London **_

"Lumos!" Two voices chorused as they hurried down the hall with the tips of their wands as the only source of light. Despite being one of the grandest structures in wizarding history, like any old Manor in the wizarding world, was only equipped with magical lighting. For the three remaining Malfoys who resided in the Manor, their wands did a sufficient job.

"The mark, Lucius," Narcissa spoke breathlessly as their feet pounded across the large expanse of a hallway. Some portraits of past-Malfoys awoke and could be heard grumbling at the noise they were making but neither of the three really gave a care as their most important goal was getting to the room at the end of the hallway.

"It's there, Narcissa, believe me, it's there." Lucius responded grimly as they finally reached the door where their son slept behind. Neither of them batted a single eyelid as they blew into the room, hands gripping their wands as they surveyed the brightly lit area.

Alarmed at finding an empty bed looking as though someone had thoroughly slept on it, Lucius could feel his wife tense immediately. When a flushing sound was heard, both heads turned quickly to the source where a very tired looking Draco Malfoy was observed, exiting the bathroom as he yawned.

"I could hear you from your rooms," He spoke, still in half-yawn. "Did the Dark Lord call?"

Without wasting a single moment, Lucius stalked up to his sleep-weary son and snatched the bottom of his shirt.

"What – Dad! What are you – are you barking – ack!" Came the protest of his son as the shirt was yanked over his head.

"Turn around boy!" Lucius thundered, his pale grey eyes glinting dangerously.

Immediately, Draco turned around knowing that when his father was in this mood, one was better off not speaking.

"Oh Merlin's beard," Narcissa gasped, her voice belying her own horror.

At this, Draco was alarmed and even more alarmed when he noticed his father hadn't said a single word. Clearing his throat, he turned his head slightly, "What's wrong?" Neither of his parents answered and he felt his father lift his grip from his shoulders. Draco turned around and watched as his father bent to pick up his discarded shirt from the ground.

Noting how his mother had her hand over her mouth and all the color escaping her aristocratic face, Draco was even more alarmed at this and very startled when he saw his shirt thrown at him. Snatching it from the air with his seeker abilities, he didn't even have a chance to blink before Lucius Malfoy took his left arm and yanked him out of the room. Narcissa quickly hurried after them.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London**_

Molly Weasley had not taken it very well that morning when she found a very weary Sirius and a very tired looking Harry pouring over a map with his wand over it. Having seen this occur on many occasions, she knew immediately that neither of them had slept much at all during the night. Storming into the room, she slammed her hands down on the table, the infamous Weasley temper rolling off her in waves.

Both men jumped up and looked guiltily at the angry mother. Before either had a chance to say anything, the matron pointed her finger in Sirius' direction and started speaking.

"How _dare_ you keep Harry up with business that shouldn't even be his to begin with? I don't care as to what you think you're doing or _how_ you think you're helping Harry, but a young boy needs sleep! He hasn't even turned eighteen yet and you're all already putting the weight of the world on his shoulders!" She fumed, her loud voice echoing throughout the house.

"But Mrs. Weasley-," Harry began, his voice raspy from the lack of sleep.

One floor above, the familiar sounds of Mrs. Black's portrait was heard as she started screaming her usual phrase.

None of the three even noticed as Molly went on with her tirade.

"And to think I let Hermione go on that ridiculous mission with Tonks-,"

"Hermione is more than capable of taking care of herself." Sirius spoke, his voice low and his hands up as he tried to placate her.

"Don't patronize me, Sirius Black!" Molly shrieked, "They are _still_ children-,"

"And active participants of this war!" He yelled, his anger having gotten the better of him.

Harry was slumped over the table, his glasses askew while he rubbed his tired eyes as the two of them argued back and forth.

Finally, Sirius slammed his own fist on the table and glared at Molly, "Whether we like it or not, they have to be _prepared_. The Dark Lord wants to kill Harry and he'll kill whoever stands in the way- including your rambunctious litter of children _and_ Hermione. If we don't train them now, they'll never be prepared for-,"

"How do you suppose he'll get to us? We've got the protection of the Aurors, the Order, and even Dumbledore himself!"

"But-,"

"Not now, Harry." Both adults ordered grimly before going back to their argument.

Harry pushed, "But Mrs. Weasley,"

"Not now!" Both spoke again.

Tired, hungry, and irrefutably angry (whether it was because they were arguing and/or because none of them could locate the missing Golden Trio), Harry's patience finally snapped as he jerked up and slammed his hands on the table, ala Sirius and Molly. "HERMIONE'S MISSING!"

"Not n- wait, _what_?" Molly turned to him, her red face quickly draining itself of its color.

Harry glared at the two of them, "She's missing! She's bloody missing!" Those seemed to be the only words he could say.

"Oh, dear Merlin-" Molly breathed, her hand going to her chest, her gaze flickering between Sirius and the angry teenager. "What do you mean Hermione's-,"

"Gone! Vanished!" Harry waved his arms as though to emphasize each word, "She's missing!" He repeated.

And before Molly could make another comment, several gasps could be heard as they turned to the hord of sleepy Weasley children that had congregated at the door.

The air turned deadly silent as Ron shuffled forward, his jaw open and his eyes wide with disbelief. "Her-Hermione-," He stuttered.

"What happened?" Ginny's small voice heard as she pushed her way through the throng of people.

Sirius sighed and all eyes immediately turned toward him as he sat down in the chair, "We don't know, Ginny. We don't know."

* * *

_**Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London **_

"What is so important you had to disrupt my slumber, Lucius?" The cold voice of Abraxas Malfoy drawled as his stony gray eyes glared at the head of the current Malfoy family.

"Father," Lucius bowed his head as a form of greeting and respect before his attention was back on the portrait.

"Out with it." The portrait drawled before lifting his hand as he delicately yawned. "Unless this can wait until morning in which case, I'll be very angry that you disrupted my slumber for something that could have been-,"

"He's back." Lucius quietly said.

"Don't interrupt me!" Abraxas gritted as he glared at his son, "I thought I taught you better than that!"

Yanking a bewildered Draco from behind him, Lucius roughly turned the boy around, his gray eyes glowing with fear.

The portrait's angry tirade was cut short as a fearful look crossed its own painted face.

"_He can't be_."

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London**_

A pair of blue eyes observed, from behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, the rather grim features of his students as they sat in various places of the parlor room, books scattered every which way. It was easy to tell that Harry was frustrated, his temper having gotten shorter and shorter as they days went on without any clue as to where their friend was. Aurors had been working non-stop to find the location of Hermione and goodness knows they'd already tried every single locator spell in the book. But the girl's essence just couldn't be felt.

Harry wasn't the first to blow-up, however.

"I'm sick of this! I'm sick of sitting here, reading these bloody texts while Hermione is out there being tortured by some sick Death Eater!" Ronald Weasley burst out as he chucked his book rather violently away from his persons.

Ginny was startled at the angry outburst but quickly got over her shock as irritation wrought her usually happy features.

The twins looked at each other with understanding faces and instead of interjecting like they always did, went back to reading their text.

Harry sighed and placed his own book on the floor, "Ron, she might _not_ be with Voldemort."

"DON'T say his name!" Ron yelled, his voice bellowing throughout the room.

Dumbledore was quick to put a silencing spell over the room, lest they wake up the cross portrait of Mrs. Black.

"Ronald, fear of the name inserts fear of the object itself. You're giving more power to him by _not_ saying his name!" An exasperated Ginny said as she rolled her eyes.

"That's what Hermione used to say." Harry said quietly to himself as Ginny and Ron threw insults back and forth at each other.

"It's a name! That's all it is!"

"I don't care if it's a name, don't say it when I'm around!"

This made Ginny scrunch up her face violently, "Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!"

"Stop it! I said, stop it!"

"BOTH OF YOU, JUST SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed, his voice silencing both Ginny and Ronald better than a silencing spell would have. Rubbing his scar, he glared mostly at Ron. The boy _had _started the fight. "I'm tired of this as much as you are but the others _are_ out there searching long and hard for her. Tonks feels especially bad about this."

Fred and George set their texts down simultaneously while they leaned forward, a serious look on their faces.

"Leads are running short-," One started.

"He-who's-name-must-not-be-said-in-ickle-Ronnikin's presence has been gathering supporters-," The other finished.

"And the only Death Eater our side has captured is Lucius Malfoy who is currently under house arrest-,"

"Which doesn't really help since there are likely to be many more-,"

"Hundreds!"

"Thousands!"

"Of Death Eaters waiting to ravage war!" They finished breathlessly while the other three stared blankly at them.

Two were quite used to the switching of speech that the twins had mastered but Harry was still new to it.

"Don't call me that name." Ron grumbled as he glared at the twins. "And _that's_ why I think we should be out there looking for Hermione instead of in here, reading this rubbish! I don't even _know_ what I'm looking for."

"Anything helps at this point." Harry replied, the anger from before having dissipated.

"We've been reading for two weeks now, TWO!" Ron argued back, the volume in his voice rising again. "The Order and Aurors have been searching for her ever since Tonks gave them her story and we've found nothing. Absolutely _nothing_."

He knew that Ron's anger wasn't because of him, Ron just needed to direct it somewhere. While Harry was just as irritated, he couldn't rightfully get mad at his best friend because he felt the same way and resented the fact that Dumbledore was allowing the older members run about, while they were holed up in this grubby placed with only each other and Mrs. Black's portrait as company. He knew the others were trying their hardest to find Hermione but he couldn't help but feel that he should be out there searching for her also. She was his best friend too! Instead, all they had done was fight various jinxed objects in the house while cleaning it from top to bottom and when they weren't cleaning, they were researching- something Harry had always hated. They always counted on Hermione to do that for them. In fact, they counted on her for a lot of things.

"Look, after what happened with Hermione, they're not taking any chances and I don't blame them. Didn't you hear what Tonks said? She just vanished! Poof! Thin air!" Ginny said.

"Yeah well, maybe Tonks was wrong. At the very least, we should go back to wherever they were and see if we can find some clue about her." Ron snarled.

Ginny sighed, shaking her head and wondered how she was related to such an idiotic brother, "They have. And Tonks wasn't wrong. They've search from top to bottom, even the surrounding areas were checked. They found nothing, absolutely nothing. So we have to hope that she's still alive and not in the Death Eater clutches."

"And what if she is?" Ron argued his angry voice laced with fear.

Harry chose this moment to interject, "Dumbledore said she isn't with the Death Eaters."

"Why? Because Snape said so?" Ron snorted as he flopped in his chair, "He's the last person I trust."

"It makes sense though," Ginny said, a thoughtful look in her eyes, "They would've made some sort of bargain by now or released some news that they had her to draw Harry out. Well, that's the thinking I'm going with anyways."

"I've always told mum your brain was ruddy!" Ron voiced petulantly, ignoring the pointed glare his younger sibling shot him.

"Not as ruddy as your Bertie Botts' Jelly Bean-sized one!"

George and Fred sighed wistfully at each other, the familiar twinkle of mischief evident in their eyes.

"Ickle-Ronnikins, Forge here thinks-," Fred started, pointing his thumb at his twin.

"I don't care." Ron cut in, his voice monotone.

George kept on, ignoring their younger brother, "And Gred agrees-,"

"Of course. That you're being a-,"

"Rightful prick."

"Indeed." The two chorused, nodding their heads at the same time.

"I agree!" Ginny voiced her opinion as she kept her glare on Ron.

Harry hid a snicker behind his hand as Ron shot another irritated glare at the three other red-heads.

"Sod off, all of you." He finished before hiding his red face behind the book he had discarded.

Albus closed the door gently. It was time to get back to work.

* * *

_**Unknown**_

Blood had long dried in the cracks and crevice of the floor, mixing with another sticky fluid creating a rather messy sight on the otherwise spotless stone floor. The wall shifted again as one of the serpent carvings on the wall slithered right off and onto the floor towards the lump where all the blood and fluid originated from. The serpent shimmered slightly before it stood up, his legs and arms lengthening. Quickly morphing into his human form, he knelt down next to the body and flipped it over, not even flinching as the blood and sticky fluid trailed after her like a web.

He regarded the body with an interested gleam in his eye. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the spears of porcelain, which had been embedded in the soft skin of the abdomen, quickly came out, blood still flowing as though the body hadn't been laying there for several weeks. The pieces of porcelain then rejoined the others as they quickly pieced themselves back together into their original form. Other than the blood, porcelain and the sticky substance, a skull with half its side missing and skin pooling around it rested in the middle of it all.

He surmised that that was probably how the _transfer_ had occurred. The weight of the falling body not only broke the jar but crushed their only relic left of their previous Master.

And after they had worked so hard to protect it…

Bowing in reverence, he flicked his wrist again before the rest of the skull flew back into the newly constructed jar and closed tightly. The jar then flew up to a high shelf in the wall and settled quietly in there, resuming its prior position.

His eyes flickered back to the motionless body and he cupped her delicate chin tenderly, bowing in reverence much like he had to the half-skull.

Soon, it would be complete.

_All they had to do was wait._


	4. Chapter 3

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 3

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

_**Unknown**_

She didn't know how long she'd been laying there. All she knew was that despite the state of her tattered robes and the various muck she was covered in (dry blood being one of them), she was devoid of any energy and felt that her body was content to just lay there on the stone floor, a lit wand clutched in her hand.

Her hair was matted beyond repair with various bits and pieces stuck in it. She had tried to untangle it with her hand but only managed to cut herself on sharp stone and yank out several hairs. No wonder, blood had dried, clumping the hair in a messy fashion. Not to mention, her hair was drenched in something sticky and the dust from the floor didn't help a single bit.

The blood was what worried her. When her eyes first jerked open, she had checked her entire body for any wounds or such. There were some small scratches and some red welts which _looked like_ healing wounds but that meant she had to have laid there for a while.

That idea was simply _outrageous_. The last thing she remembered was touching the coffin with her hand and Tonks' face. She couldn't have been passed out that long, could she?

"Tonks!" She gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, her brown eyes wide with disbelief. Was she alright? Had she gotten back to the Order safely?

Bringing her wand up into the air, she licked her dry, cracked lips and glanced at her surroundings. Despite the unknown territory, she didn't feel the pitter-patter of her heart as it was found often doing when she was nervous.

But she wasn't nervous; in fact, this place seemed almost…_serene_ if not for the morbid, dank atmosphere befitting of a cave. She noticed the intricate carvings on the wall and with a jolt of awareness, felt as though she _should_ remember this place.

That was silly, how could she possibly have known about this place beforehand? She'd never gone to Romania before and Snagov Monastery was not a place she frequented often. Assuming she was _still in_ the monastery.

Rising into a standing position, head feeling somewhat faint, she walked to one of the carvings and ran a finger along the jewel eyes. Their expressions were fierce, protective but seemingly gentle and mysterious. Fingers ghosted over the carved scales and the wings as she smiled, the scholar in her bursting with excitement. She was positive it was charmed just like Hogsmeade and Grimmauld Place. However, she'd never even read about such a place before and the discovery of something new always excited her (never mind the fact she was covered in blood and alone).

With a deep breath, she leaned up against the wall and felt the palatable resonance of magic in the dank air which only served her suspicions about the place being charmed. Eyes trailing upwards, she stood back and noticed a slight irregularity in the wall. Her head tipped to one side; she looked at the light on her wand and back into the dark space above. Grinning as a fanciful idea came to her, she blew gently at the ball of light and was slightly disappointed when it barely flinched at her breath.

She shook her head, her mangy head of hair moving with the motion. It was silly! What was she thinking, really!? How'd she even come up with such a ridiculous idea? As if the _lumos_ spell could be altered so that it didn't have to stick to the wand…honestly! She _really _was losing her marbles!

Pulling her wand away, she gasped when she realized the bright ball of the _lumos_ spell remained suspended in the air. "_Merlin's beard_!" Her whisper echoing as the ball of light gently floated high into the air. Then without a moment's hesitation, it burst in a sea of sparkles. She closed her eyes immediately and yelped in surprise but then opened it quickly just in case she needed to defend herself.

She'd never seen a more surprising sight. The sparkles that floated every which way were the size of a single grain of sand and remained floating in the air, illuminating the entire room in its effervescent glows. Holding her breath, she lifted a hand to cup a few sparkles but only felt the familiar warmth of the _lumos_ spell as it passed through her palm.

She never remembered reading about something like this! She was _sure_ she _hadn't_ been able to do it before!

Her head jerked around, taking in every wall carving. It _had_ to be the room! It _had_ to be enchanted or something or another…Lord, what a find!

A crease appeared in her forehead as an unsettling thought came to her. But where the heck was she? Her eyes lifted to a square shelf high in the wall where an ancient porcelain jar sat. Another pain of déjà vu coursed through her but she couldn't recall where she'd come across a jar like that before. Perhaps in passing?

_Your friends worry for you, dearest._

She swiveled around violently, her eyes widening in fear. Was there someone else in here? "Hello?" She called, her wand out and lips ready to spell or hex. "Is anybody there?"

_You must leave._

There it was again, a faint whisper deep in the confines of her mind.

Eyes darting around the room while the sparkles of light remained in place, she pressed her lips together tightly as she took a small step towards the only doorway. "I'm warning you! Come out right now!"

_Do not worry, we'll watch over you._ This time, the whisper was from behind.

She jerked around, a spell ready on her lips before her eyes caught sight of her glowing hand. Spell forgotten, she yelped, "What-!" Her entire body was suddenly enveloped in a strange warmth which only served to make her mind even more frantic as it tried working the possibilities of such an occasion. After all, she had _never _come across something like this in the volumes of books she'd read. Nor had she ever heard about it before.

Dash it all! She should've portkeyed when she had the chance!

Despite her misgivings, she reveled in the secure feeling the glowing light gave her and watched as the room swirled around her, sparkles dancing in the air, her eyes growing heavier and heavier and her mind lulled to a deep sleep.

Finally, unbeknown to her sleeping self, a person stepped from each of their carvings on the wall and watched as the figure in the center of the room, framed with light, disappear from their sight.

* * *

_**Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London**_

A glass of brandy in one hand and his cane snug in the other, Lucius Malfoy's gaze burned into his glass as the portrait before him watched the entire scene with a critical eye.

"Tell me again why this is happening." Lucius Malfoy demanded, his voice thick with drink.

Abraxas Malfoy's portrait huffed in irritation. He really should be used to this by now having told his bloody son several weeks ago when the entire family came storming in the middle of the night, all that he knew. Ever since then, Lucius Malfoy had made it a point of his to visit the portrait every other day, making the portrait of his father repeat the same information over and over. Really now, didn't he understand the meaning of redundancy?

"He can't be alive. He was destroyed. The curse should've been destroyed with him." The portrait repeated, having said the same words over and over again.

"And now it's destroying me and could possibly be destroying Draco. Narcissa is beside herself with worry; she won't let him out of her sight." Came the airy response.

"Don't be such a melodramatic!" The portrait drawled as he rolled his eyes. "Come now, I remember you rather enjoyed the abilities."

"I _don't_ enjoy the feeding."

And that was what confused the portrait. Narrowing his eyes at the languid form of his son, he asked, "And have you fed?"

He shook his head, "No. Haven't felt the need to."

"Odd." The portrait muttered, causing Lucius' to snap his head up.

Gray eyes glinting dangerously, he asked, "What do you mean, _odd_?"

The portrait shrugged, "It's been three _weeks_. In my time, we barely had the strength to stand if we went three _days_ without feeding."

"Then…?" He trailed off, his glass of brandy forgotten on the tea table.

"Something must've changed." The portrait muttered. Then to himself, "But what?"

Lucius leaned forward, ears drinking every bit of new information the portrait provided.

"Our blood was tied with our Master's. He sustains us just as much as feeding did. I do remember…" The portrait trailed off, his facial features belying deep thought, "The only time I remembered_ not_ having to feed was when the Master's power was practically gargantuan. It was enough for him and for _all of_ _us_."

"Is that what's happening now?" Lucius asked, a small bit of relief filling his chest. It would be really problematic if he had to feed, especially in Wizarding London.

The portrait threw the man a cold glare, "It's not possible. That was in the Master's _prime_. Something else is happening and while I'm sure the Master is involved, I don't think he's involved as _entirely_ as we think."

Lucius' hands were clenched at his waist as he glared at the portrait, "Might I request as to who or _what_ is involved, then?"

The portrait glared right back, "And I might request for my sleep."

"_Father_." Lucius growled, in a dangerous tone.

The portrait sniffed, offended, "Go to his tomb and ask the _guards_. Perhaps they know the answer."

"What!?" He bellowed at the portrait, "You know nobody is allowed in there! They'll tear any offenders to shreds if the enchantments don't get you first."

"I_ suggest_ you_ find_ a way then." The portrait's voice brooking no further discussion.

Glaring at his father's painting, Lucius Malfoy gave a stiff bow and began to stalk out of the room.

"One more thing, Lucius."

His form stopped, but refused to turn around.

"The Dark Lord need not hear of this, do you understand?"

"Yes, father."

The surface of the brandy rippled as the slamming of the door reverberated throughout the entire room.

Glancing down at the decanter, the portrait's arrogant look turned into one of great worry.

_What in Circe's name was going on?_

* * *

_**Grimmauld Square, London**_

Alastor Moody landed first, followed by Hestia Jones, Tonks and Remus Lupin.

"Took them bloody Death Eaters long enough to clear out of that place. I thought they'd never leave." Moody growled as he dismounted from his broom and snatched it out of the air.

Hestia Jones leapt off her broom and spoke, "I'll give the report to the Minister. We'll gather Shacklebot and meet at Hog's Head in the morning, then portkey ourselves to the monastery. I don't think we'll have any trouble with the civilians. The British Prime Minister has ordered the area to be closed off for the rest of the summer after the Minister of Magic warned him."

Remus stole a glance at Tonks whom he knew was as tense as a spring board. Having been the one to have seen Hermione last, he knew she felt personally responsible for the young girl's well-being and had put her every effort into the search. She seemed to be possessed when they'd searched the monastery earlier that day for any clues and Remus could practically feel her disappointment when they called it a day.

Until today, they had been unable to visit the monastery where Hermione had disappeared. After narrowly catching the pink-haired Auror and the missing Golden Trio, the Death Eaters had been watching the place, waiting for their return. Probably for revenge since Remus was sure they'd been punished by the Dark Lord for their failure.

Since a fight would hinder their search for the busy-haired girl, they'd waited and watched until every single one of them left. He knew that given the chance, she'd probably go and search the monastery right now by herself once again if she could, but it would be a rash move to make at night and they both knew it. They weren't taking any chances after her and Hermione's ambush.

Turning back to the building waiting for the familiar grungy windows of twelve Grimmauld Place to show itself, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The wolf in him stirred and before anybody could blink, he had his wand whipped out. Three other wands came out a fraction of a second later as they jerked around, eyes wide with anticipation.

"I should go warn them." Moody muttered, his glass eye jerking around rapidly.

"No, you'll reveal the _Fidelis_ charm Dumbledore put on it." Remus said as he branched out from the group, his posture crouched and ready to leap at the offending being that had the wolf in him stirring uncomfortably.

"There!" Hestia cried as a figure floated from the air, a faint glow around its being.

"_STUPEFY_!" Came the shouts as red sparks shot out from four different directions.

The figure tumbled to the ground with a sick thud as Moody and Remus searched the area for any other signs of trouble while Tonks and Hestia made their way carefully towards the still offender.

Hestia moved ahead and only stopped when she realized Tonks was as stiff as a board. She turned around and with a confused look on her face, asked, "Tonks, are you alright?"

"Oh, _Merlin_!" Tonks gasped as she came to her senses and rushed towards the figure.

"Be careful!" Hestia warned, hurrying after the pink-haired Auror.

"NO!" Tonks wrapped her arms around the body protectively.

"Have you gone mad?" Hestia asked, her voice incredulous.

Moody and Remus turned back towards them, having noticed the scene.

"Bloody hell," Tonks muttered as she took in all the blood and dirt, "_Finite Incantatum_! Wake up!"

"Tonks, what are you doing!?" Moody growled as he hobbled over to her, Hestia with her wand drawn.

Tonks turned tear-filled eyes at him, both relieved and frightened.

"What is it?" Remus asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"Oh bloody hell," Moody swore as he peered at the still body in Tonks' arms, "It's _Hermione_!"

* * *

**Note**: If you are a Ron and Hermione shipper, you probably won't enjoy this story much. I don't fancy that pairing AT ALL. Comments and criticisms, please. 


	5. Chapter 4

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 4

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London**_

Jerking awake, Hermione gasped as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the dungeons and the eerie light that glowed from the torches on the wall. The stench of human release, mixed with the metallic tang of blood and grime filled the air; this only served to make her intensely nauseous. Glancing down at her chained hands, she was surprised to find herself looking at unfamiliar, large, callused hands.

Though she couldn't quite place it, she felt that something was strangely out of place and it wasn't just because of the hands.

Clearing her throat and whimpering when pain enveloped the area, she rasped out, "Hello? Is anybody there?"

No sooner than when she finish speaking did she double over, blood dribbling from her mouth as she painfully hacked up fragments of her torn throat.

While the pain was great, her alarm at hearing her own voice was even greater. It wasn't hers! She didn't remember it ever being that deep or masculine!

With shock and surprise, she lifted her hands and felt her own face, alarm growing every second when her fingers glazed over the rough stubble, the sharp angles, short hair-

_Oh lord._ Her hands rested on her chest feeling nothing but muscles and sinew beneath the rags she was wearing.

However, she (rather, he) had no time to wonder about the current mess she was in before the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the dungeons, louder and louder as they approached her holding cell.

A wave of fear and trepidation filled her, but to her amazement, as though of her mind's own volition- anger, betrayal and hate was also felt.

"Radu." Her mouth spoke the word but her mind did not recognize it.

"Ah yes, my glorious second brother," Came the cultured response in a language she knew she'd never come across. Strange enough, she understood it.

"Where's father?" Her lips spoke again as though they were possessed. Chains rattled with movement as her body moved on its own to stand.

_What's happening?_ Her mind screamed at her. None of this made any sense to her, it was as if she had control but she _didn't_ have control. She was aware of every move she was making but at the same time, not able to comprehend what was going on.

"He's been released." The silky voice spoke. Then, the most handsome man she'd ever seen stepped into her view. His good looks were quickly thrown out the window when she found herself slightly thrown back at the hateful look in his eyes.

"What did you do?" She felt herself saying, eyes narrowing in suspicion and distrust. She wondered briefly what had happened to her throat to make every word she said burn with pain.

"You're supposed to be the smart one, aren't you Vlad? I struck a bargain, of course." The 'Radu' person spoke, his slender hands moving to clasp behind his back as he smirked through the bars.

She felt her body jerk towards the door, hands gripping the metal bars as blood and spittle decorated the handsome man's face. "Traitor!"

The dark eyes which held an unfathomable darkness should have frightened her but only intensified her anger as he wiped off his cheek with disgust. Radu then signaled to the guard on his right with a slight nod of his head.

She felt her entire body buckle with pain as she doubled over from the harsh thrust of the stick the guard had just rammed her with.

"Smart as you are, dear brother," The cultured tones of the aristocrat began, "You were always too wrapped up in those silly ideas of yours. The land of Wallachia need to be ruled with an iron fist! Fairness and equality for all, _including_ the peasants!? Don't be so foolish! They're better off dead."

"So that's it?" Hermione heard herself choke out, "This is for the throne? Don't forget, getting rid of me will not solve the problem of Mircea, you fool."

_And who in Circe's name was Mircea?_

"No, no, it will not. But Mircea was always one step behind us." The handsome visage twisted into an ugly smirk, "I'll need him for the time being. Someone needs to run the kingdom so I can be free to attend to my own inhibitions. Then, when he least expects it…"

"You won't get away with this!" She rasped, pulling at the chains with what little strength she had left.

"Oh, but I already have." Radu said in mocking sympathy, "My actions would not have gone unnoticed if you were there, well and alive, you see. You were always the clever and smart one in the family, always several steps ahead of everyone."

She growled, chains chafing at her bloody wrists.

A maniacal glint flashed in the younger man's eyes, "And now, who's the most clever one of us all? Who's finally one step ahead of you, dearest brother? Me! That's who!"

"You'll ruin the kingdom like this!" She felt herself cry out, her knees scraping on the rough stone floor.

"NO! _You_ would've ruined it!" Radu lost his cool composure and slammed his hand into the stone wall beside the door, "I will _save_ it!" Then, with a flick of his other wrist, the two men flocking his sides entered the small cell and flipped her body over, ripping the shirt from his body.

"No less than fifty lashes! Have fun with it if you can, boys." The superfluous tone sounded before the distant clicking of his heels faded in the hallway.

"No!" She heard herself rasp out before the crack of a whip sounded through the air.

* * *

Hermione shot up from her bed at Grimmauld Place, blood rushing from her face as she scrambled for the wash room. She didn't make it, however. Tripping on her blankets and slamming painfully on her knees, her mouth opened widely and her abdomen clenched as she began to dry heave. Stomach acid burned its way up her esophagus before collecting in a small pile on the floor. No wonder, she had absolutely no food in her stomach. 

Unaware of the cacophony that surrounded her from the time she woke to the time she fell from the bed, she shivered violently as a myriad of intense emotions passed through her mind, making it unbearable to process- _what just happened_? It wasn't until she felt someone gently pull her wiry curls back and another patting her back in a comforting manner did she realize that her room was occupied by most of the Order members running about. Lifting her head weakly to her side, she caught a pair of intense green eyes.

But she wasn't lucid by far.

* * *

With Ron on one side and Harry on the other, they quickly carried their rail thin friend back to the bed and covered her shivering body with blankets, throwing worried glances her way as her brown eyes flitted all over the room, untrained and unfocused on anyone and anything. 

"Dumbledore's here." Molly Weasley said, throwing the door opened as the Head of the Order quickly hurried to the bed.

"I'll need everyone to clear from the room." His deep voice rumbling, "There aren't any damages to her physical state so we have to assume it's mental."

Various cries of outrage were heard, mostly from the younger members- the loudest being Ron and Harry.

"She just got back!" Ron protested, his arms gesturing wildly.

"We can't leave her!" Harry added on, his arms gripping her bed sheets.

Dumbledore listened to their protests, his blue eyes flashing, "I understand your concerns. However, regarding the delicacy of this matter, I'm sure you'll understand the need for privacy, for Miss Granger's sake."

Molly had been protesting also but was already being ushered out by a grim-looking Arthur Weasley while Sirius and Remus took hold of the others. They seemed to understand the urgency in Dumbledore's voice.

"Harry. Ron." Sirius called, "You heard the Headmaster."

"No! I won't leave her side!" Harry protested, his green eyes flashing with anger.

"The Headmaster needs to be left in peace of he is to help Hermione." Remus' soothing tones were heard.

"But Hermione needs us!" Ron also protested.

"But she needs treatment more," Sirius spoke in a deep voice that broke no argument. "Let's leave them in peace, shall we?"

"But-but-," Harry heard Ron protesting feebly.

Clenching his fists in anger and avoiding both Sirius' and Remus' gazes, he spoke through gritted teeth, "_Fine_. I'll leave _this_ room, but you can't make me leave her door."

Sirius flashed a grateful smile, "Wouldn't even think of it."

Albus Dumbledore watched with his bright blue eyes hidden behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, as Sirius Black ushered the two very irritated teens out the door.

Harry had thrown him a very annoyed and angry look but behind those green eyes, Albus could see the desperate pleading behind them. Ron threw him a similar look before they both exited with Sirius close behind.

After the door was shut, he turned right back to the heavy-breathing girl before him and pulled out his wand. With a flick of his wrist, he secured the room and made sure that nobody outside could hear what was going on inside. Then with another flick, he quickly assessed her health and other than her quickened heart rate, there seemed to be no other problems. Pulling out a vial from the sleeves of his robes, he placed a few drops in her opened mouth, waiting for the potion to take effect.

Sitting down on the bed, he watched with a concerned eye as the brown irises flickered every which way, sometimes even rolling up to the back of her head. Some errant curls were plastered to her sweaty face as incoherent mumbling spurred forth from her mouth.

"…adu…err…du."

Confused, he bent down and called in gentle voice, "Miss Granger."

Her hand jerked violently but he disregarded it and repeated, more adamantly this time, "Miss Granger."

Her head twitched to the side and her pupils dilated, her lips moving as though to gasp for air.

"Miss Granger." He repeated once more.

The witch drew in a harsh gasp as her chest arched and her face turned bright red from the exertion. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she remained arched. Then, as Albus held his breath, she dropped back down into the bed and closed her eyes.

Albus Dumbledore watched all of it with a curious eye, his posture relaxed except for the tight hold on his wand, "Miss Granger?" He tried once more.

Her eyelids fluttered open, brown irises focused on the wizard before her, "Headmaster Dumbledore?" She asked in a raspy voice.

With a smile, he responded, "How do you feel, Miss Granger?"

"Sore. Hungry." She replied with a guilty look and then with trepidation, "And confused. Excuse me, how did I get here?"

He tilted his head, eyes twinkling, "Would you rather be somewhere else?"

She blushed, "Oh no, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that-," Her eyebrows furrowed as she processed her thoughts, "That is to say- I mean- I-," With a very bewildered expression, she answered, "I don't remember. All I remember is running into the monastery and then I woke up in this bed."

With a small smile, Dumbledore patted her hand comfortably, "That's a bit of a problem. You've been gone for the better part of the month."

"No!" She gasped, hands flying to her face as she stared gobsmacked at him.

He nodded, "It's true. That's why it's imperative you tell us what has happened to you these past few weeks."

Hermione rubbed her forehead as she recalled the sequence of events leading her here. "I remember running to the back of the monastery, grabbing my wand, then I looked over the coffin…And I woke up here!"

"I see, are you sure that's all? You truly can't remember anything else?" Dumbledore responded plainly, his blue eyes peering at her.

Hermione chewed her lip at the disappointment she felt from his words and shook her head, "No…But- oh!" She burst out with a small smile of her own, "Do you think, perhaps a pensieve might provide more answers?"

"That would be very helpful, yes." He said thoughtfully. "Do you mind if I do the honors then?"

"No, of course not, go right ahead!" Hermione said happily. Her curved lips quickly drooped as she realized how odd she sounded. Strange...she had just be informed she'd been missing for practically the entire month and she didn't feel a single bit of emotion. Her body felt sore, weak, and her stomach ached from hunger. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and she was unable to piece together any of the pieces if they did indeed fit. Confused, she reached up with her left hand and rubbed her forehead as she tried to recall the last conscious moment she had before this.

She _did_ remember a tug at her navel…Was it a portkey?

All of a sudden, she felt an intense pain shoot through her head. A blood curling scream ripped from her mouth _so violent_ that even the powerful silencing spell Dumbledore had placed on the room didn't prevent it from passing through the walls.

* * *

**Note**: I hope you all figured out that the first part of this story was a dream sequence. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 5

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London**_

Albus Dumbledore dropped his wand with a startled jerk and moved quickly to collect the tiny thread of silver that leaked from her eye just as Harry, Ron and Sirius burst into the room. The thundering of several footsteps could be heard throughout the hallway as most of the members quickly filed into the room, worried eyes flitting between the bushy-haired girl and the powerful wizard who'd been alone in the room with her.

Mrs. Black had awoken also but nobody paid attention as they were far more concerned with the horrible scream that came from Hermione's mouth.

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry shouted simultaneously as they dove for the bed, one flocking each side.

Dumbledore moved out of the way with surprising nimbleness, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes as he watched the girl on the bed with a strange glint in his eyes.

"What happened?" Remus asked as he moved towards the bed.

Her screaming had stopped and now all that filled the room were her whimpers and the reassuring voices of both Harry and Ron. Mrs. Black's portrait continued with her tirades, her screams just one floor below making Sirius roll his eyes at the direction of the door.

Dumbledore spoke quickly to Remus in a low whisper, "I will explain what I know. In the meantime, please contact Severus and inform him to bring his supply of medi-potions along. Contact Minerva, she's beside herself with worry. Send a note along to Tonks as I'm sure she'll love to see for herself that Miss Granger has awoken."

He nodded and made his way quickly downstairs.

"Professor Dumbledore, what happened?" Ron asked, turning his stricken face to the elderly wizard.

Harry was grateful for Ron's presence at the moment because he certainly didn't trust his own mouth to ask what Ron did. He trusted Dumbledore, he truly did but what did he do to make his best friend scream like the world was ending? When he heard it, he'd felt it in his very bones and was still slightly afraid of learning what had been the cause of it. After all, Dumbledore had been the only one in the room with her. Harry knew he shouldn't be thinking like that - it _was_ Dumbledore - but with the way things stood, he wasn't very capable of logical thoughts. His main concern was making sure his best friend was alright especially with her having been missing for three weeks and all.

With a tight smile, Albus nodded towards their way, "As I deduced, it was her mind. I have sent for Professor Snape's potions and when he arrives, we will feed her the tonics immediately. They won't be a permanent fix. Just temporary relief from whatever pain she may be suffering. However, I shall speak with the other Order members to see what we can do. In the meantime, please take care of Miss Granger." Turning on his heel, he strode out the door leaving Ron with his jaw hanging.

"Professor! Professor!" Arthur followed him out the door.

Sirius patted his godson's shoulder for comfort before turning to stride out the door.

"Harry, what's this about Hermione's brain?" Ron wanted to clarify.

"Nothing yet. At least, I hope not." Harry said grimly, his eyes turning back to the unconscious girl.

Molly was left in the room with Ginny gripping her arm as they both moved forward towards the barely conscious girl, both boys clutching at one hand each.

With resolve, the matron of the Weasley family motioned to her youngest offspring and smiled reassuringly, "Ginny, get Hermione some rags dipped in cold water. No doubt all that sweat on her face is very uncomfortable."

The slender girl nodded before running out the door, her light footsteps pitter-pattering down the hallway.

"Harry, Ron," She spoke in a stern voice.

"Yes, mum?" Ron said at the same time Harry had said "Yes, Miss Weasley?"

"I'll need you to collect the potions from Sev- Professor Snape when he arrives."

"I can't leave," Came Harry's adamant response, "You can forget me leaving her side because I won't. Hermione needs us!"

She nodded stiffly, "Ronald, then. I'm sure you can handle the task by yourself." The look she shot her son was one that held no room for argument.

He reluctantly let go of the girl's hand but not before whispering, "I'll be right back, you hear? Then you'll be all better." _I hope._ Then he quietly shuffled out the door, Molly moving to take his place by her side.

Taking the small, limp hand in her own, Molly pressed a kiss to the girl's temple, trying to keep her worry at bay as she smoothed back the bushy curls. When Ginny rushed back into the room, a cold rag in her hands, the Weasley matron took it and dabbed at the prone girl's drenched face. Then casting a cooling charm on the rag, she placed it over her heated forehead. It would have to do until they received Severus' potions. There was also the matter of the Order meeting at had but Dumbledore would understand, bless the wizard. Hermione was practically _her_ _daughter too_, afterall.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall entered the room and pressed her lips in a tight line. She knew that the Headmaster wouldn't call her unless it was something of great importance and that was what worried her. She knew of Hermione's disappearance several weeks ago and had been working on researching a myriad of location spells- all of which failed. She had started to go out of her mind not being able to go out and search for her favorite student physically knowing all too well how fruitless her labors would have been. Thankfully, the girl had just been found a few hours ago _and_ in surprisingly good condition but who knew what problems lurked about, unseen?

Her eyes moved around the room before settling on a porcelain bowl sitting on the desk. Moving closer, she saw nothing at first but then noticed a tiny thread of silver floating around.

"While small, that is a pensive" Dumbledore said first, as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"It seems to be too tiny to be a pensieve." Remus commented, moving to stand next to Minerva.

"Whose is it?" Minvera asked, a wary eye trained on the Headmaster.

"Miss Granger's."

"That's a weak pensieve for someone of her caliber." Sirius said.

"Figures with the company she keeps." Severus Snape drawled from his position in the chair. His potions having been collected by the trembling Weasley boy just minutes before, he had hoped to administer them himself in fear that the foolish boy would probably poison her instead. But Dumbledore having insisted on his being at the meeting, he could do nothing but be thankful that he saw no Molly which led him to presume she was watching over the bushy-haired-know-it-all.

He truly hoped the girl was alright.

Sirius threw him a dirty glare for his comment.

The former rolled his eyes in reply, "The only other reason for it being that small is that she must've fought you for it, then. Obstinate as she was, this comes as no surprise."

"Now come on! Why would Hermione fight Dumbledore for a pensieve?" Sirius refuted irritably.

"Obviously she's hiding something." Snape smirked.

"No, that's not it," Dumbledore's clear voice cut through the air, silencing them all. "She offered me the pensieve."

"Then…" Minerva trailed off, exchanging worried glances with Arthur Weasley.

The fireplace roared as though forewarning the room's occupants of the explanation to come.

"You see, Miss Granger may have been willing to give her memories to me but her mind fought for it."

"That makes absolutely no sense!" Minerva spoke, her voice thick with worry for her favorite student.

Dumbledore continued his explanation, "I also thought this was an oddity. I was already halfway through extracting her memory when the pensieve started to retreat. I thought I might've been going too fast so I slowed down but that was not the case; it still resisted."

"It was subconscious, then?"

He nodded in confirmation, "I pulled and that's when she screamed."

"What does this mean?" Arthur asked.

"It means that whether Miss Granger knows it or not, she is protecting whatever happened to her these last few weeks she's been missing." Sitting down at the desk, the Headmaster sighed wearily and the occupants of the room were suddenly reminded of how old he was.

"I'll perform_ legilimency_, then." Severus concluded.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Dumbledore began, hands clasped, "Miss Granger's mind has taken severe steps to block these memories. For it to be that strong to resist a memory extraction, we can ascertain that it has done so because the lady in question cannot handle them were she made aware and it would probably lead to mental deterioration."

Minerva gasped, her hand quickly reaching to cover her mouth.

"Should we use force, it would be much like the equivalent of opening Pandora's Box. Only, it's inside her mind." He finished.

The air was thick with tension, fearing for the innocent young girl. As they slowly drank in the information, not a sound was made. Even Severus was hard pressed to find a derisive comment for the current situation.

"Well then," Remus began quietly before motioning to the bowl containing the single silver thread, "Shall we?"

* * *

Minerva landed on her feet, startled when an oblivious Hermione Granger passed right through her body. Turning on her heel, she watched as the girl leaned up against the wall, tilting her head upwards. The light illuminated the familiar round face of Arthur Weasley and Minerva was happy to note that he seemed just as confused as she was. 

While Minerva was aware that she was accompanied by others in the memory with her, she couldn't help but feel somewhat un-welcomed and shivered.

"Fool." Came the telltale drawl of Severus Snape as Hermione Granger blew at the light on the end of her wand, looking disappointed when it did nothing.

Minerva was also slightly taken back; was her top student expecting it to move? Had she really expected it to do _anything_?

At that moment, Hermione Granger had pulled her wand away, the _lumos_ ball floating as though it were its own entity.

"Merlin's beard!" Hermione's whisper echoing as the ball of light gently floated high into the air.

Merlin's beard, indeed. Entranced, Minerva watched as the _lumos_ ball drifted to a stop. Then, without a single warning, it exploded into a million pieces the size of a grain of sand, their tiny balls illuminating the entire room. Minerva was hardly looking at the room and instead saw the shocked faces of Severus, Remus, Sirius, and Arthur as the bushy-haired girl yelped in surprise before grinning happily at the result.

Across the room, she watched as a troubled look flash across the Hogwarts Headmaster's face, her own facial features contorting into one of surprise and also pride for her top student before they were immediately hurtled from the memory.

"That wasn't very useful." Sirius grumbled, having landed not so lightly on his bottom as he quickly picked himself up.

"Did you notice the carvings on the wall? They were serpents of some sort." Remus murmured more to himself than to anyone in the room as he patted his robes. Turning to the Headmaster, he asked, "What do you think, Professor Dumbledore?"

The wizard shrugged, his gaze avoiding Remus' as he turned towards the window, a speculative look in his blue eyes, "I'm not sure yet, I'll have to do some extensive research."

"Merlin's beard," Arthur repeated the same words they'd heard in the pensieve, "Did you teach her that, Minerva? Did Flitwick?"

Shaking her head, she kept herself from smiling. Surely if the girl had performed an innovation on such an establish charm as _lumos_, then the problems the young witch may be suffering wasn't as severe as it was believed to be, "I'm afraid we had nothing to do with it."

"Then Hermione…?" Sirius trailed off.

"That was _her_ own doing," Came the excited response of one, very proud Transfigurations professor.

Severus groaned inwardly. _Mental deterioration his arse_. Not _only_ did the Gryffindor head of house have the smartest student who was also the _only_ one in a school of a thousand that could do _wordless magic_, but the bloody chit was _also_ able to create her own variation of the _lumos_ spell.

While he had created his own spells before at her age, the effect was not as dazzling as the one they'd just experienced and he had experienced plenty of problems before perfecting the wrist movement required for the _levicorpus_ spell. The girl had done it by simply blowing her breath on it. There was no flick of her wand, no fancy wrist movement, no incantations. _No energy whatsoever._ He was almost certain that that was also the first time it occurred and Granger's expression in her pensieve proved it.

Reminding himself that it shouldn't come at such a large surprise considering how smart Granger was reputed to be, he could only throw an irritated glance at the gloating professor while she gleefully clapped her palms together and stared happily at the silver thread floating in the bowl, problem at hand forgotten.


	7. Chapter 6

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 6

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

**_Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London_**

Lucius Malfoy staggered into his study, still robed in his Death Eater cloak as his mask dropped from his hand to the floor. He hobbled to the nearest chair possible and quickly seated his aching body, groaning in pain. He heard the scrambling to his right but didn't even have the energy to look up as a glass filled to the brim with whiskey was shoved into his face.

"Here Father." His son's quiet voice was the only indication of his worry.

Lucius snatched it up without a second glance and drank it in two full gulps. The burning sensation made its way down his throat and the pain subsided a bit as the warmth spread to his various limbs. Passing the glass back into the stiff hand of his son, he leaned back into the chair and waited until his son was standing obediently next to him, awaiting the explanation he so desired.

"I've been punished." He stated the obvious.

Draco flinched, having experienced the Dark Lord's _Cruciatus_ curse first hand for one of his own failures. While his first session had left him unable to speak or move for two days, he knew that what he had experienced was nothing compared to what his father went through when the Dark Lord punished him. Sometimes, it was bad enough to leave actual flesh wounds severe enough for Lucius to be bedridden for several days, even after taking Snape's potions. While one of his closest followers, the Dark Lord also made it a point to punish them the most severely, Bellatrix being the only exception.

"I searched every bit of that place, even rechecking areas Avery and Notts had covered but I couldn't find a _single_ thing of importance."

Draco knew that his father had been very thorough.

"But the Dark Lord was adamant that we'd left something behind. After all, the Order couldn't have possibly retrieved what they were after so it was up to us- no, it was up to _me_ to retrieve whatever they were after." Lucius rubbed his forehead as the pain of the _Cruciatus_ slowly faded away like a bad memory.

"What was it that they were after?" Draco asked after a moment of silence.

"We don't know." Then with an expression of a man who was used to the cards he was dealt with in life, he said in a lazy drawl, "None the less, he was displeased and _Crucio_'d the three of us."

Draco sat still while his anger slowly bubbled to the surface.

"Draco," The commanding voice spoke.

He straightened his posture, "Yes, Father?"

"The Dark Lord wishes to meet with you in a fortnight."

Draco pressed his lips together in a tight line, his hands gripping at the elbows of the chair.

Gray eyes peered intensely at his own matching pair, "What transpired the other night- have you spoken to anyone about it?"

Draco shook his head, "No, Father. I've yet to converse with anybody."

Visibly relieved, Lucius nodded, "Then it is best you keep it that way."

Draco's eyes widened substantially as he immediately realized the underlying subtext behind the words. His father was asking him to keep what transgressed a few nights ago a secret- which would be fine had it not meant that he was to also keep it a secret from the Dark Lord!

He was already confused about that night and only recognized the severity because of the way his parents both acted. It _had to be_ immensely important if they had to consult his grandfather's portrait about it. He _still _had no idea what was going on but hadn't put much thought into it until now.

This was the first time he had been instructed by his father, the man he respected the most, to do something other than obey the Dark Lord's every bidding. Essentially, _lie_ to the Dark Lord! It was almost treason! Draco found himself even more proud of his father at these few words, after all disobeying the Dark Lord was not something_ anybody_ could do and being a follower was certainly not his greatest wish in life. However, knowing the punishments the Dark Lord dealt, Draco feared what would happen should he find out. A lie was a lie was a lie. The Dark Lord had punished for less.

Like now.

"I'm serious, Draco," Lucius warned, "_He_ especially _cannot_ hear about this, you understand? If he found out, your fate would be sealed as- regardless of what could come, I can assure you that that's far worse than being _Crucio'd every single day_- do I make myself clear?"

Draco nodded vigorously, "Yes, of course." He quickly made a mental note to practice _occlumency _first thing in the morning. Then, when the timing was right, he'd find out what the wicked tattoo of the dragon was doing on his back.

* * *

**_12 Grimmauld Place_****_, London_**

Having woken up smothered between the slumbering bodies of her two best friends, Hermione blinked wildly as Ron's loud snore echoed throughout the entire room, catching her ears first. Slowly sitting up so as to not awake the sleeping boys, she was surprised to find Ginny was also sitting up in her own bed, fiddling around with a thread and needle. The red-haired girl having caught her in the act, smiled brightly at her and pointed at her forehead.

Hermione's hand reached up and pulled the cool rag from her forehead, setting it on the night table, confused as to why the two boys weren't sleeping in their own bed, "Ginny?" She pointed knowingly at the still bodies by her side.

"Sorry," The red-head whispered just loud enough for Hermione to catch, "I told them to get out but they wouldn't leave you."

"Oh, alright." With a soft smile, Hermione worked quickly and stealthily to remove herself from the bed without disturbing the two even further. Once she was out of the bed, she pulled the covers up, securely wrapping them in it. Both shifted in their sleep but continued to slumber deeply. Making her way across the room, her stomach made an awful gurgling sound protesting from the lack of food, bringing Hermione to a grinding half as she blushed to the very roots of her curly mane.

Ginny giggled into her pillow, thread and needle forgotten.

Meanwhile, the sound made both Harry and Ron toss in their sleep, limbs sticking every which way as a result of the extra space. Hermione was glad to have removed herself from the small bed when she did.

"Come on," Ginny whispered, amusement evident on her face, "Mum left some delicious porridge for you in the icebox, we'll just heat it up and you can help me with this." She held up a yellow dress which Hermione could see was ridiculously too large for the young Weasley.

"Where'd you get that?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice as she slipped her feet into an extra pair of slippers under Ginny's bed.

"It was Mum's. The design is horrid, and as you can see, the size overwhelms me so I'm fixing it up to wear when school starts. The material is still alright and since I don't have many dress robes, I fix up old robes Mum can't wear anymore." The girl responded as she gathered all the materials in her arms.

"Why not just use magic?"

"I don't know how," Was the embarrassed answer, "Mum's taught me a few spells but when I tried, I ended up tearing a hole. I don't really remember the wrist movements." She picked up a sleeve where Hermione's eyes could just make out a rip.

Bedroom light extinguished, the two quickly scurried out into the hallway and tiptoed down the stairs, towards the ground floor, wands lit. Both moved with trepidation around the portrait, only stopping when the moth-infested curtains trembled a bit before stilling. Then quickly moving into the kitchen, Ginny whispered the spell to turn on the lights just as Hermione closed the door to the hallway behind her.

"Are you feeling alright? You're a bit pale." Ginny asked with concern as her eyes flew over Hermione, assessing her health.

Hermione nodded, her curls bouncing, "I feel alright. A bit lightheaded but mostly hungry, thanks Ginny." She grinned, her dry lips protesting at the stretch.

"Sure," The red-head shrugged, "You gave us quite a scare there, you know? Now how about some butterbeer? I can warm some up for you if you want." Ginny suggested as she dumped her armload on the kitchen table.

Hermione moved to sit down with a thankful smile. "Sure," She answered graciously as she pulled the needle from the dress and set it to the side. "I'll see what I can do about this in the meantime." She motioned to the dress. "How do you want this to look, anyways?"

"Something simple, nothing too fancy." The red-head asked as she moved around the kitchen.

Hermione's scrunched her nose as she was oft found doing when in deep concentration before she pulled her wand from her night robes and whispered a few simple spells under her mouth.

Ginny threw her a grateful look as she set about busying herself with their midnight snacks.

* * *

**_San Polo, Venice_**

A strikingly beautiful woman emerged from the cellar, the glass doors automatically sliding shut behind her as she cradled a bottle of wine in her arms. Treading across the large expanse of a hallway, she stopped where two large doors opened immediately to admit her entrance.

Padding across the thick, expensive carpet, Antonietta Zabini conjured up a wine glass before gracefully sinking into a large chair.

The fireplace flared to life; green flames dancing on the enchanted logs as she popped open the bottle with a flick of her wand and poured the wine into her glass. Sipping delicately and savoring the taste in her mouth, she leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes.

"Zabini." The cold voice of Narcissa Malfoy sounded through the room as her beautiful features showed itself in the flames.

"I was wondering when you were going to visit again, Malfoy." The lady of the Ville responded in a sultry voice as her eyes remained closed.

"Then you must know I came to continue our discussion."

At this, she opened her eyes and smirked at the visage in the flames, "And why do you think I'll have anything new to say?"

An indifferent shrug, "Because I'm sure _your group _is aware of the current situation at hand and how dastardly it can get. You've been researching the matter, of that I am also sure. You must have information, it would be pathetic if you didn't."

Antonietta tsked, her coffee-brown lips pursing, "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy…you won't get anywhere with that arrogant attitude of yours."

"Oh, it's taken me far. Don't forget, your prime source of information comes from my husband and I as there is nothing more reliable." Narcissa returned arrogantly.

Setting her empty glass on a nearby stand, Antonietta leaned forward with a serious look, "The situation isn't good, Malfoy. Could you…" She trailed off, her dark hand motioning to the empty living room.

The pale visage of Narcissa Malfoy nodded succinctly before her slender figure danced from the fireplace and into the living room of Ville de Zabini.

The slender woman took her seat across from the lady of the manor before arching a perfectly shaped blond eyebrow, "Please…if you will."

"Not so fast," Came the quick response as Antonietta leaned forward, "I'll need to know a few things first."

Narcissa tensed, not liking the dangerous glint lurking in the shadows of Antonietta's midnight blue eyes, "What is it?"

She smirked, her own beautiful features taunting Narcissa's tense ones, "Tell me, how is your _dear_ boy, Draco doing?"

* * *

** Note**: Next chapter is going to be twice this size... 


	8. Chapter 7

**Title: **Order Of The Dragon

**Part**: Chapter 6

**Author: **Svelte Rose

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to a lovely Miss Rowling.

* * *

_**Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London **_

_**(A day ago…)**_

_Blue eyes searched the dimly-lit room before it settled on a prone figure sprawled out on the sofa in front of the fireplace. There was nothing in the fireplace but charred remains, though the Head of the Malfoy household seemed content to stare at it. _

_She entered the study quietly and closed the door gently behind her. Slowing making her way towards the sofa, she wrangled her hands in nervousness the closer she got. When she stood before him, his only acknowledgment of her was a glance from those cold gray eyes before he shifted himself aside to give her room. Narcissa Malfoy laid down next to him and pulled his arms around her, reveling in the comforting feeling she drew. "What happens now?" She asked after a few moments of silence._

"_You heard my Father." Lucius Malfoy responded just as quietly._

"_I thought they got rid of him." She spat the word out as though there was something vile in her mouth._

_Lucius sighed, unraveling an arm and reaching for the bottle of wine, "Apparently, the dead do not stay dead. I don't know how it's possible that that creature revived himself when all that remained of him was his head. Someone must've had a hand in it."_

"_Like Lord Voldemort?"_

"_Just like Lord Voldemort. I'm sure of it." _

"_Are you going to take a look at his resting place? Perhaps you might find something there." She suggested._

"_I can't. I would've done so already if I could. Nobody knows where his tomb lays and if one was able to get in, they certainly wouldn't leave it alive." He bit out before detangling himself and sitting up._

_Sitting up also, she mustered up the courage to ask, "And the feeding?"_

"_Nothing like the story books, I assure you."_

"_Draco, then?"_

"_He shows no signs but we'll have to keep an extra eye on him, just in case."_

_Finally, "And the Dark Lord?" She asked, trembling._

_Lucius stared intensely into the shimmering blue eyes of his wife, "Pray he does not find out."_

* * *

_**San Polo, Venice**_

_**(Present)**_

"You know something don't you?" Pale blue eyes narrowed in suspicion as she sat up, her fingers tightening around her wand due to instinct.

A taunting smile was thrown her way, "You could say that."

Narcissa leaned back, waiting patiently but the grip on her wand did not lessen anymore.

Antonietta poured herself another glass of wine, enjoying her company's discomfort. She licked her lips before continuing, "Your son is the reason for much cause of consternation among…_us_."

The emphasis on the pronoun was not missed by the blond witch as she tightened her lip.

"He's not the first but he is certainly the only one that we know of in the Wizarding world. There aren't any in the Muggle World."

"How do you know that?"

"Your husband's kind has no decomposition structure which is essential to the growth process. The magic in our blood makes up for that missing vital piece and since Muggles don't have it, procreation between the two isn't physically possible. Besides, even if they were able to reproduce, they wouldn't have lived for long."

"Too weak to survive?" Narcissa thought the answer _that_ simple.

"No, they would've been killed off or shipped to their government as test subjects."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. And to think people harangued her for her beliefs on the superiority of purebloods.

"Muggles aren't as stupid as we'd like to think of them." Antonietta said with bemusement, "If there is anything to praise them on, it is their ability to keep and maintain records and old texts. Sometimes, there are Muggles who see more of this world than we'd like them to see. They are few but determined in their acts of aggression against that which they deem abnormal. It's much like your family's system of belief."

"I hardly think we're the type to advocate for little children being shipped off to those who would skewer them for education purposes." Narcissa bit sarcastically.

Antonietta shrugged nonchalantly, "I beg to differ. They believe that for them to live, the so-called supernatural must perish from their realm and the only way to do that is to hunt them. To aid them are centuries' worth of records revealing ways to deal with certain creatures. Many of these were written by our kind, left in their world when we fled after those barbaric witch trials and that horrid Spanish Inquisition."

"My husband and son are not creatures to be hunted. It is ridiculous!" Narcissa fumed as her grip on the wand threatened to break the slender piece of wood.

The dark witch held up a finger as though scolding a small child, "Ah, but that is not how they see it. Your husband's kind fed on their blood for several centuries before Muggles found out how to defend themselves against them. Like I said, it was either they kill or be killed. I don't need to tell you which choice they preferred."

A snooty huff was heard. "They wouldn't have died."

"If the feeder was careful. You and I both know most didn't give it a second thought to finish their food source off. There was always more where it came from."

"Those are the vigilantes. My husband would never stoop himself so low so as to act like such an animal." Narcissa defended.

"I'm sure there are a lot of things your husband wouldn't do," Her hostess responded with a critical eye, "Anyways, an underground battle took place between those specific individuals and your husband's kind. You are right, many of the more powerful clans wanted nothing to do with this battle but they had no choice but to defend their own kind and their belief in the right to co-exist with the Muggles."

"They why did the Muggles-," Narcissa paused when she said the witch across from her lift a hand to halt her speech.

"Muggles believed that they just could not exist in the same community. I am sure there are those who still keep a quiet life in the Muggle world but they are very few and hard to find. They will not show themselves if they can help it. You will find the majority of the Serpents in the Wizarding World."

"Serpents?" Narcissa asked, a strange lilt in her voice. _It was a tattoo of a silver serpent that had appeared on Draco's back…_

"That's what _his_ most devout followers called themselves. There are derivatives of their names with some of the more sillier ones being Fanged Ones or Blood Feeders and the generalized name being Serpents, Night Walkers, or some other derivative. His own private circle called themselves the Dragons."

"And what of the name 'Vampires?'"

Antonietta shook her head, "That is what you want to _avoid_ calling them. A term developed by Muggles to refer to them in their lore, it's not popular among their kind."

"Yes, I believe my husband mentioned something about that…" She mused quietly.

"No wonder. It attaches certain mythological properties which seemingly places them on the bottom of the hierarchical status. For instance, their fear of sunlight and fear of the divine were more than exaggerated."

The blond witch rolled her eyes. "Muggles." She muttered as though even the word was beneath her.

Antonietta chuckled, "Now, now, play nice. When they needed to feed, they would do it under a cloak of darkness. It's no wonder the Muggles believed them fearful of the sun. As for fear of the divine, well, I don't think they ever figured out that there needs to be actual faith behind their weaponry if they wanted to call upon divine intervention. Eras when the church was in power were especially harsh on the Serpents living in the Muggle world because practically everyone had faith. Anybody carrying a cross that even did so much as graze the skin of a Serpent found themselves harming them."

"Enough of the history lesson," Narcissa snipped impatiently, "How was the curse able to disappear, only to reappear in our lifetime?"

Antonietta only arched her eyebrow but continued regardless, "I'm not sure why it reappeared but I do know that the curse's disappearance is all due to the Muggles. For all our beliefs on the inferiority of them for being born without magic, they are an intelligent bunch _when_ the need arises. They believed that if they killed the originator of the curse, it would null the curse that ran rampant in the followers."

"That's absurd. We've had couldn't even though him, equipped with our wands as we are; how did the Muggles do it without magic?" Her voice raised a pitch.

Antonietta was enjoying this more than she liked to admit. It was so easy getting a rise out of her current guest, "They may not be born with magic like we are but there are few of those who have the will and focus required to call upon the energies of the earth to provide them the power needed to deal with the less than ordinary. Their magic is wild, harder to control and taxes the Muggles performing it. It can't be done very often."

"Yes, yes, I know of that." Narcissa said impatiently. "The practitioners of wild magic were the reason our kind was hunted centuries ago and we were pushed to create a separate world from the Muggles. Too much activity will alarm anybody who isn't familiar with it. It's no wonder the general public went batty."

Antonietta continued, "They performed a ritualistic spells, ages old and very powerful if invoked correctly. It destroyed the Originator's body and all that remained was his head. Twelve of his most powerful and devout followers collected that head and guarded it in a secret chamber unreachable by all. They deemed it the most proper burial. When his blood stopped flowing, so did the curse."

"I know all that. What I don't know is why the curse chose to reappear now?"

"The curse never died, Narcissa." Antonietta answered. "You and I both know that a curse can never be removed; only lived out until the carrier's life is ended. "He was an originator and all his followers were carriers of the curse. When the Originator died, the curse only became latent. The curse's energy comes from the blood of the Originator therefore the blood must've been revived somehow."

"Someone must've breached the securities of his chamber, that's where his head is-," Narcissa began.

"Now, you're being absurd." Antonietta interjected, "Twelve of the strongest beings we've ever come across only exist to protect what's left of Him in that chamber. Many have tried and all have failed. There were only pieces left of those who tried to breach the chamber wards."

"Yes, but it is not impossible!"

"Oh, it is!" Antonietta slammed her glass down, "Believe me, it is impossible."

A cold glance, "Am I to presume that your organization has tried?"

"Only pieces of their flesh were left." The dark witch repeated, her lips a tight line.

Narcissa regarded the witch silently, one hand supporting her head as she crossed her legs, "Then how do you explain the revival of the blood curse?" She repeated.

Antonietta was silent, her eyes burning with hatred that Narcissa could not even call upon. "It must've been a Muggle."

She surmised the hatred was_ not_ directed towards the Muggles but something else entirely.

"The chamber is located in the Muggle world, an area where no wizard or witch would even think about it unless they've read the Muggle texts- not many of us do- and the text really do nothing but tell you of what the chamber looks like. Once you've even learned _of_ the chamber, you would need to find the entrance, break pass the protection wards and avoid the guards." Antonietta conjured up a fire, the bright orange and yellow flames adding a bit more light to the dimly-lit room. A slight chill had settled in the air while outside, rain slowly drizzled on the earth. "There are several entrances to the chamber, all of which are next to impossible to find and even more difficult to breach. If one is lucky enough to find an area where the entrace to the chamber crosses with the veil of this world, magic more powerful than what was used to ward that place, is needed to even begin breaching the wards."

"Magic more powerful..." Narcissa murmured, "The Dark Arts." She was thankful for the extra warmth of the fire.

"Also strong feelings, what we call 'love' can also be considered very strong magic. The chamber was built with that kind of protection. The same that protected Harry Potter from the Dark Lord's killing spell." Antonietta quietly explained. "Dark Arts, while powerful, does not gain quiet entry. It forces itself upon those it's being used which is why it is so effective _as a _weapon. Like I said, that's probably the easiest part."

"You've used the Dark Arts." Narcissa stated, her blue eyes staring right into Antonietta's.

The dark witch kept the stare for a short time before turning away, "Yes. It took twenty of our most powerful to manage it. No Muggle, no matter how much of the earth's power they called upon, could accomplish that task. Controlled power is needed to untangle the many layers of protections spells and charms."

"The Dark Arts would not be enough to get past the guards..." Narcissa stared off into space as she wracked her mind for the missing pieces.

"There's no way." The dark witch said adamantly, "There must be another explanation for the curse's revival. Does your husband know anything?"

Having not heard the question, the blond witch kept staring off into space with a troubled look in her eyes.

Antonietta stood up impatiently and cross the room, sitting on a nearby couch next to the seemingly vacant witch. Snapping her fingers in front of her face, she was chagrined to find that Narcissa didn't even bother to blink.

"An innocent." She finally murmured.

Antonietta was taken back, "What are you talking about?"

"The feminine divine." Narcissa's pale blue eyes turned to stare at Antonietta, "The only thing left that's just as powerful as the Dark Arts and strong emotions would be the blood of an innocent, female girl who hasn't been tainted." Her eyes narrowed, "We're dealing with a babe."

Realization flashed in Antonietta's eyes, "Of course. Her blood is only as strong as when she wields it so no one else could've used it for their own purposes. But how could they have known about this information? Even us wizards and witches privy to this are so few…"

Through gritted teeth, Narcissa seethed, "You can't be suggesting a Muggle was the one who opened his chamber?"

"No, it isn't possible. Besides, the blood of an innocent is but only one way to gain entry into that tomb." Antonietta turned her face to the window, "And the dead stay dead; that's how it is. If there were methods of revival, you can be assured we would be the first to know about it. The Originator doesn't even have his body anymore so something _else_ must've occurred; an awakening of his bloodline perhaps. A son or daughter who has just come into their powers…" Her voice seemed uncertain, her eyes peering at Narcissa carefully.

Narcissa shook her head, "He was the last of his true lineage. He couldn't have a son or daughter even if he tried; his blood was too changed, too different, too _pure_ for anybody else, even those he personally had a hand in _changing_."

"Then I can safely say that my organization and I have nothing else to offer. We are also puzzled as to how this came about; it might just be a coincidence." A sigh of content was heard as Antonietta sipped from her glass.

Narcissa threw Antonietta a cold hard stare, then contemplated for a few moments before answering the lady before her, "Do not insult my intelligence or yours by even suggesting that this could be a coincidence."

"Nothing of importance has happened yet so I fail to see why it's something to be worried about." Antonietta drawled, her serious countenance no longer.

"A century's old curse reviving itself is unheard of."

"But a _single head_ reviving itself is even more unheard of than your curse theory."

"It is not a theory, it is a fact." She all but snarled.

Silence regarded them, consideration of possibilities were only few of the many thoughts which lay siege to their minds.

"I have given you all the information I have. Now it is my turn to receive." Antonietta began once more.

Her guest threw her down her leg and shifted in her seat, a symptom belying her unwilling nature to part with what she had been asked for.

The smirk reappeared on Antonietta's face as she observed the hesitation, the curve of her lips even more pronounced by the shadows the dim light cast upon them, "What of him?"

Narcissa knew immediately who she was talking about as she stared long and hard at the woman before taking a deep breath to answer, "He's certainly got the curse. The mark of their allegiance to _him_ showed itself on his back. I'm not sure how long it'll be before other changes take affect. Lucius is already seeing a significant change in his…" She struggled for a moment before deciding on the right word, "…Abilities as you might call them. I've been keeping my eye on the both of them."

"A son is enough to worry about but a husband too? I would find myself going stir crazy. I already have my hands full with Blaise." Antonietta mused with a chuckle as she continued sipping from her never-ending wine glass.

At this, the pale witch allowed herself a small smile, "Draco has been adjusting to this very well."

"Have you told him anything?" She questioned.

Narcissa shrugged, "No, we haven't."

A snort, "It's no wonder he's taken to it. He hasn't asked any questions about it either?" A lift of an eyebrow.

"No he hasn't. I suspect it has more to do with the Dark Lord having called him to his services in just a fortnight." At the slight intake of breath she heard, she paused slightly before continuing, "Draco has already been warned about not speaking to the Dark Lord. He is an obedient child and very capable when dealing with all sorts of situations."

* * *

_**The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Wizarding Devon**_

_The air was thick with fog and a faint scent of something burning wafted up her nostrils. It was cold and damp, the kind of weather that chilled her to her bones and she couldn't help but shiver and wrap her arms around herself as she made her way slowly on the barren ground. Barely able to see even a few feet in front of her, she pushed her frizzy curls out of her face and carefully surveyed her surroundings._

_Not that it did much. All she could see was fog and maybe a foot of dry dirt around her. _

_The ground beneath her feet was barren of any vegetation. Not even weeds grew in the dry cracks of the dirt. She assumed it was daylight but she really couldn't tell with the thick fog and smoke._

_Short of throwing her hands in the air, she sighed irritably and noticed it was cold enough for her breath to be seen. Grumbling slightly under her breath, she picked up her pace and constantly kept her ears honed and eyes sharp._

_First that dark room with the weird carvings on the wall, then that dungeon with the weird guy name Radu, and now, some foggy area where she could barely see two feet in front of her- how was it she kept on ending up in places where she had no idea of where it was?_

_Eyes watering slightly, her nostrils noted that the smoke in the air was even more pungent than before she started moving._

Hermione blinked wildly, her gaze focused out the window while Molly and Ginny bustled around the house, gathering a few more things to bring to Grimmauld Place. She shook her head trying to clear it of the murky thoughts before she turned around just as Molly _reducio_'d the box containing most of what they would be bringing back. She then went out the door, an excuse about having more things quickly thrown Hermione's way.

"Look! I still have some extendable ears from Fred and George!" Ron said excitedly as he entered the room with two ears in his hands, followed by an exasperated Ginny while she carried a box half her size. The feather-light charm had obviously been placed on it but it hadn't been reduced.

Hermione rolled her eyes before she went over and took the box from Ginny, placing it with the reduced sizes of the other items. The incantation flowed from her lips as easily as breathing came to her and then there a swish of the wand before the box shrank. At the rate they were going, the whole of the Burrow was going to end up at Grimmauld Place.

Seating herself while Ginny dealt with the over-excited Ron as he pulled out various items he'd attained from his twin older brothers' room, Hermione reached up and rubbed her neck and then her eyes.

Despite various concerns and worries, she refused to stay in bed any longer and had opted to come with the Weasleys to gather whatever Molly needed. She much preferred the cheeriness of the Burrow to the grimy, old, dankness of Sirius' house and enjoyed it whenever they could venture out whether it was a few minutes at the Burrow or better yet, Hogsmeade.

Things were still hectic with her return having been only a few days ago. First, there was the questioning with Dumbledore when he tried obtaining a pensieve. She remembered thinking about something or another (no idea what it was) and then waking up in the middle of the night. Apparently it hadn't been succesful. Second, Tonks had arrived the morning after, apologies and hugs (at which Hermione refuted it was certainly _not _Tonk's fault) before the rest of the adult members dragged her away from Hermione to brief her on the situation.

What _was_ the situation anyways? Hermione could hardly believe it when Dumbledore head told her she was missing for three weeks; she could only remember the ambush at the monastery and then waking up in bed with a ridiculously sore body and a headache that was relentless. The frightening thing was that even she couldn't explain what happened during her disappearance. Had she been abducted by Death Eaters? Creatures sore at the general public? _What was it?_

She knew some of the members were slightly suspicious; she didn't hold it against them. After all, she'd be the same way living in the era they did. She did get flashes of images now and then but they were vague; more like recollections of silly dreams and nightmares and none made any sense.

She knew the suggestion for using _veritaserum_ was only a short breath away and she couldn't help but feel violated that their trust in her was so easily discarded. She was hurt of course. She wanted her words to be believed- when she said she didn't remember anything, she truly did not remember anything.

But wasn't it the only way? They needed answers; nobody went unaccounted for, for three weeks, without an explanation of any sorts.

She was the logical one, the rational one and it was the same reasoning used to push away the awful feelings; she shouldn't be thinking like that of her friends. They were all fighting on the same side and that wasn't against _her_- it was against Lord Voldemort.

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice broke through her musings. She reached out to shake the day-dreaming girl from her thoughts, "We're getting ready to leave…"

"Oh, right," She responded in a breathless tone as she got up from the table. All the reduced boxes were in Molly's palm and Ron carried his own reduced box, no doubt a series of products from Fred and George's shop. Unfortunately, the two were no longer staying at Grimmauld, having gone back to take care of their business in the wizarding world, so Ron and Harry were left to their own devices and find their own amusements.

"Alright, hold on tight Ginny or else you'll get splinched!" Molly took Ginny's arm and apparated with a loud pop, Ron following slowly behind.

Hermione made sure no parts of Ron were left behind, he having severed his eyebrow on the first try of his apparition exam. Satisfied that no body parts were hanging in mid-air, she concentrated on the sidewalks of Grimmauld Square.

Just as she was about to apparate, she caught the flutter of a dark-colored robe from the side of her eye. With a small jump, she surveyed the kitchen with wide eyes, wand out to defend the Weasley home if she had too. Even more puzzling…weren't there suppose to be powerful wards on this place to keep intruders out? Her eyes passed the stove, the various pots and pans, the spices…

Out of no where, a cloaked figure appeared right in front of her. She toppled back, pushing at the figure with a shocked gasp, both at the suddenness of his appearance and when her hands passed through his body. Blood pumping in her ears with only one clear thought in her head, she took a deep breath and concentrated on _that_ thought with all of her might.

_Pop!_

Innocent rays of sunlight danced across the empty kitchen floor.


	9. Chapter 8

**Title: **Order of the Dragon

**Part: **Chapter 8

**Fandom**: Harry Potter

**Comments**: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Also, last but not least, thanks to my beta, Nicole for making this literate. Woot.

_**12 Grimmauld Place, London**_

She shot up from the bed with a gasp, perspiration dotting her forehead, heart beating wildly. Casting a quick glance at the other room occupant, she felt a semblance of relief when she saw that Ginny was still sleeping. A hand reached up and rubbed her weary face as she slowly climbed out of bed and out into the hallway. Once in the loo, she splashed her face with cold water and stood there while the rivulets of water dripping down her face and onto her pajamas dampened her flannel top. Her heart rate had slowed down considerably and she blew out a long breath before making her way back to the bedroom.

Licking her dry lips as she crawled into bed, she tried recalling the nightmare which jerked her awake in the first place but to her chagrin, she couldn't remember anything except for a figure cloaked in black.

It was the same cloaked figure she'd seen when she last went to The Burrow. Ever since nearly splinching herself when trying to apparate away from whatever it was, she'd opted out of any subsequent Burrow visits much to the confusion of her beloved red-heads. When questions were asked about her state of apprehension, she had claimed she was fine and that the reason for her poor apparition was due to the lack of sleep.

Of course that had set off a slew of questions, most of which came from the matriarch, Molly Weasley herself.

_Tired? What do you mean tired? Are you not getting enough sleep? Are Harry and Ron still stealing your bed? Are you eating correctly? You must tell me, Hermione, else I can't help you…_

No matter how much she loved her surrogate mother, she really did _not_ want her constant hovering. After all, she was slowly beginning to think that she was most likely going crazy, with her not being able to remember anything from the three weeks she'd been missing and the strange, hooded figures that kept on popping up everywhere. The only time one had appeared before her outside of sleep was at the Burrow. She didn't even know if it was real- the one at the Burrow couldn't have been a corporeal entity because _she'd put her hand through his chest_. It _had _to have been a figment of her imagination because why else didn't anybody sense it until she was the last one standing in the Burrow? It couldn't have been a Death Eater either; the wards were strong so if any of Voldemort's forces had tried to force their way in, Molly would've known instantly no matter how far away she was.

But what else could it be but a result of her lack of sleep? She had read something about it before in one of her psychology books, called night terrors. It wasn't uncommon and people had them all the time.

Lack of sleep resulted in clouded judgment, heightened blood pressure, fatigue, double vision…all of which could contribute to making her see things that weren't really there especially in a state where her conscious and subconscious were fighting for possession of her mind. She was merely projecting her subconscious into her conscious, so there was nothing to worry about…

Unless she was Freud and the cloaked figure was repression of her sexual needs.

Hermione snorted quite loudly, eliciting a mid-sleep snort from her roommate, who then flopped around in bed before settling down.

_It was only nightmares. That's all._

She refused to tell anyone as it would only cause alarm- especially Molly. That poor woman…not only did Molly worry incessantly about the children under her care but she also had her own job to do within the Order and make Grimmauld Place as livable as it possibly could be. Though, Hermione surmised, the last part was probably out of want rather than need to do so.

She yawned, snuggling deeply into the soft, warm comforters. Her eyes slowly drifted shut as visions of hooded figures, jeweled snake-eyes and a silver serpent danced across her mind.

It would've been too much for her to hope that she would be assigned another mission so quickly after the debacle in Romania but that didn't keep her from storming up the room and slamming her door when Harry and Ron refused to let her go with them on their latest Horcrux mission.

Her ire was heightened with the fact that most, if not all the adults, including Tonks, agreed with them- though most of them didn't know exactly what the boys were doing. All they knew was that Harry and Ron needed training in the field and what better way to do it then to send them to areas where activity of the Dark Arts flared. All the more better that Dumbledore was to accompany them; after all, what harm could be done in the presence of the man whom even Voldemort feared?

Not only did she have to fight against prejudice against blood but also against sexism. Merlin's beard, how did witches even make it in the Wizarding World?

Of course, they hadn't come right out and say that it was because she was a girl. Rather it had been hidden under a veil of concern regarding her current health and looks. Bollocks! She knew she wasn't a pretty thing like Ginny but it wasn't because she lacked the ability to, she just didn't give two sickles as to how she looked!

Stomping up to a filmy and filthy mirror, wincing at the bright sunlight beaming from the open windows, she cast a quick 'scourgify' and gasped at the reflection staring back at her.

Well then…it was no wonder they were worried about her.

"What have you _done_ to yourself?" The magical mirror said in a deadpanned voice and seemingly horrified at the same time.

These were the times when she wished that not all things in the magic community were charmed. Hermione ignored the snooty mirror and blinked at the image staring back, mollified that it was actually her own reflection. Robes that use to fit her now hung on her frame like a tent. One could see very clearly that her collar bone and wrist bones were jutting out, looking as though they could pierce the skin. Added to the effect were gaunt cheeks, dark circles, bloodshot eyes and hair that _just _didn't resemble hair anymore.

_Not_ that it hadn't been a horrid mess to deal with before, but at least there had been some semblance of curls. Now, it looked suspiciously like an enlarged version of what Crookshanks coughed up.

She rubbed at her face, fatigue riddling every single joint. Her mouth felt parched but not for water, she felt like she needed sleep but in her ire, adrenaline pumped through her body.

Hermione lifted her head with a determined face and grabbed a brush nearby, yanking viciously at her hair, "Stupid, overbearing…" She muttered under her breath.

"_And the men run off to battle while the womenfolk guard the home. Makes you wonder how far we've really come, hasn't it?"_

The brush fell to the ground with a clatter and she jerked around, eyes widening as she surveyed the empty room.

"Ginny?" She called out hesitantly, "Did you say something?" It seemed harder to breathe these days, as any small surprise seemed to send her heart beating erratically.

"_You mean that mere slip of a thing? She's in the kitchen with her mother, where apparently, all the women are meant to belong."_

Hermione turned around wand at the ready while her eyes darted across the room, searching every nook and cranny. It didn't take too long in room of this size. There were no closets, no dresser drawers to hide behind and the bed stand had no bottom to hide under. Despite not finding anything out of the ordinary, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up while a slight chill passed through her body.

"Reveal yourself!" She demanded, slowly backing up against the wall.

"_As you wish, my lady."_

Suddenly, a gust of wind flew into the room despite the closed windows. A few stray papers funneled towards the middle of the space, creating a small hurricane of sorts in the small bedroom she and Ginny shared. Hair whipping around her face, Hermione threw up a quick shield charm just as a pencil came flying through the air at her, bouncing off the shield only to be picked up by the wind again. She watched as a mass of shadows formed in the middle of the room, first resembling a big blob of nothing and then gradually thinning itself into a slender humanoid shape.

Adrenaline pumped even more rapidly through her system as she threw herself from the wall and dashed towards the open door. Just as she grasped the edge of the doorway, she was yanked back, her mouth gasping for air.

Falling onto the bed and bouncing a few times, she quickly called out, "Help!" 

"_They can't hear you," _said the whispers as the wind slowly died down and papers fluttered to the floor.

When the air was finally cleared of debris and such, Hermione gasped and her eyes widened considerably as she stared in astonishment at the figure in the middle. She pulled her hands away and her mouth started to move as though she were speaking, but no sound came out.

With the fluttering of its robes, she found herself regaining her voice once more, words spilling out in a rapid tumble.

"You were at the Burrow!" She finally said. Then her mouth opened several more times without sound, speechless in her realization. "Who are you?" She finally settled, her eyes narrowing in distrust.

_It_ didn't speak. Instead, _it _took a step forward.

Hermione scrambled back and while she couldn't see any of his or her features, she knew, rather _she felt_ that it was smirking.

"_Yes, that was me."_

Her lips resembled a thin line as she tensed, pressing against the headboard with her wand held out, "I ask you again, who are you?" She noticed that her wand hand was shaking; whether from fatigue or trepidation, she could not figure.

She watched with a terse silence as abnormally pale, slender fingers throw a languid wave at the windows. On command, the curtains pulled shut, shrouding the room in a blanket of darkness, save for the tiny sliver of light that escaped at the seam where the curtains met.

Hermione's mouth was like sandpaper, her tongue scratching the roof of her mouth as she swallowed and the color drained from her face.

'It' was a strong witch or wizard- the sex she still could not make out. She knew this because only a very few amount of wizarding folks – generally, those who had made a name for themselves – were the only ones capable of accomplishing both wordless _and_ wandless magic. It was a feat the cloaked figure had performed so easily with what seemed to just be a twaddle of its fingers.

She did not know whether the figure was friend or foe (foe most likely since she'd never met him and he did trap her in the room), she scolded herself inwardly for her curiosity at its abilities and moved forward from the headboard, as though making up for her lapse in judgment. "Who are you?" She asked for the third time, the lioness in her roaring to be released.

This time, 'it' finally answered.

"_I am your watcher; your soon-to-be mentor and teacher."_

While her body tensed even further and her facial expression was distrustful, her eyes held a bit of confusion.

Now smiling (and she knew it was smiling), the arms of the figure slowly dropped to its side before shimmering from her view.

Pupils only had time enough to dilate before her mouth opened, ready to fire her first spell as the figure appeared but a mere three inches from her. The figure itself only had enough time to snatch the wand from her arm at which Hermione's instincts immediately took over as she curled into a ball and rolled off the bed.

It was all about self-preservation now and while she would have wanted her wand to be with her, unfortunately, that was not the case. In the quickest dash of her life, she pounced on the door, yanked it open before a cold hand grasped her wrist and pulled.

She could tell by the lurch of her stomach and the indefinite swirling of the room that she was would not see her room at 12 Grimmauld Place the next time she opened her eyes. One scream escaped her lips before the nausea overtook her body and halted the sound.

Had she been conscious, she would've heard the thundering of feet marching up the stairs and the desperate cries of her name before two women fled into the room, eyes searching the debris-littered place but still finding it hauntingly empty.

Somewhere, Hermione had already succumbed to her unconscious.

_**Unknown**_

With each hurried step he took, he swore under his breath while he clutched the figure to his body in a tight grip. By now, the hood that had obscured his features from view had long fallen from his face. Angular features were made to seem even sharper from the shadows cast by the firelight and the harsh look on his face was ferocious as his steps picked up, practically sprinting down the long hallway.

Concerned looks were thrown every now and then to the unconscious bundle in his arms as he knew that under any normal circumstances (at least for those with their 'condition'), the travel should have been as easy as a snap of his fingers. Therefore, it did not bode well for them when the _reason_ for their _awakening_ was in such a deathly state…even for those of his _kin_.

As such, he was not surprised by their reaction when he finally burst through the entrance way. About two or three of them had rushed forward while the others hurried around the room grabbing various items.

He gingerly set her on the lush bed, her brown hair fanning in a perfect halo around her head. The color of her face was deathly pale and the red of her lips became even more pronounced as each figure quickly took their place in a circle around the bed. Wands were transfigured into sharp daggers before whispers cut through the tense silence. Seven chalices flew around the room stopping to hover before each person.

Finally, the whispers stopped, a deadly silence filling the room once more. Palms held out, the daggers moved to slice cleanly through the pale skin, and blood poured into the floating cups. Once satisfied, the chalices floated away from each of the seven figures, hovering above the still figure spread out on the fine, silk sheets.

With a flick of their wands, several mortal wounds appeared on the body of the girl. She flinched in pain but did not awaken. Her mouth opened as though to scream but no sound came out. Her eyes moved, but did not open.

A war was being fought within her body and nobody but she knew who the soldiers were.

The air hummed with old magic as the whispers started up again, her body twisting as though in wretched pain. Then without a warning, the floating chalices tipped over, creating a horridly spectacular blood bath.

Her eyes flew open, vision blurred by the blood as she clenched the sheets in an agony so terrible, her vocal cords refused to comply with her wish to scream.

And so she gritted her teeth as her blood seemed to boil, her head seemed to split a million times over, and her heart beat so fast, her ribs threatened to shatter.

_Arms shot out in perfect harmony, the whispers having become chants. _

Her body slowly floated to mid-air though she could not register anything but the horrid pain which wracked her body so. A feeling of déjà vu washed over her but there was no time to contemplate as a searing pain shot through her writhing body.

_One final verse was muttered._

Her body dropped from mid-air, splashing into the blood-soaked bed before her eyes closed over once more.

"_Lorem ipsum." _

_**Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London**_

Forks clattered to their plates as both father and son doubled over in their chairs, clutching at their chest with painful groans. Choked sounds were heard above the screams of the matron as each man curled up into a ball, trying their best to relieve the pain.

House elves showed themselves with a pop and hurried to their masters as the lone woman summoned a bag of floo powder and dashed towards the fireplace. Before she could even throw it into the smoldering flames, it flared green and a familiar face appeared in them.

Surprise was short as each noted the grim features upon the others' face.

"It's happening." Narcissa bit out.

Antonietta could only stiffly nod. "Narcissa…"

"Lucius…Draco." Narcissa choked out, "Excuse me, I need to go check on my family." _Because I might not have one left in the morning._

Another stiff nod before the dark witch disappeared from the floo.

_**Death Eater Stronghold, Wizarding London**_

Red eyes opened slowly as languid arms stretched high. The buxom witch that shared his bed the night before had not surprisingly, long disappeared.

Many of his consorts knew that if they did not do so by the time he awakened, they would not see another light of day.

He plucked his wand from what seemed to be mid-air and summoned his fine, tailored Death Eater robes. Standing up from the bed, a sinister smile crossed the once handsome visage as red-eyes shone in the dark.

There was much work to be done.

_**San Polo, Venice**_

Antonietta turned around from the floo to face the groaning figure, twisting against the restraints tied to the four-poster bed. She clenched her wand tightly as the house elves worked their own magic to relieve some of the pain he was feeling. Or so they hoped.

The disease which possessed the beings that _had_ _killed_ her husband now threatened to overtake her son.

_Revenge_, those beings had said when she came across them in her son's nursery, nights after her husband's disappearance. She was terrified but enraged as she knew instinctively it was they who had taken her husband's life in such a gruesome manner.

_The forfeit of her husband's life was not enough. Her son would be riddled with the disease and once the time came, he would understand what it felt like to be _one of them_. No other revenge would be sweeter for them. No other._

_It had been her secret for over fifteen years._

Magic seemed to flair up around her all-too placid nature and the tight grip she had on her wand threatened to break the slender piece of wood. Life was _not_ fair and she had _come to terms _with that. But that did not mean she would not settle the score if she could.

Now that they had their revenge, she would get hers.

_Even if it meant using her own son._

_**Malfoy Manor, Wizarding London**_

Narcissa quickly transfigured a chair into a makeshift bed while several house elves lifted Lucius onto it. She transfigured another chair into a second makeshift bed, which Draco was placed upon. Their already porcelain skin had turned so white, it caught onto the blue hue of their veins. Teeth bared to show perfectly sharp fangs as magical coils were cast to restrain the wildly flailing duo.

She lifted a hand to cover her choked sob, having already summoned the necessary personal that were trained to deal with this.

_After almost six hundred years, the ancient curse had awakened once more._

Narcissa could not possibly begin to feign how she would deal with this. She was not prepared.

_Nobody in the Wizarding World was._


End file.
